


The Spellbound Affair - Alternate Ending

by Firestar385



Series: The Spellbound Affair 'Verse [2]
Category: Castle
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Family, Gen, Kid Fic, Minor Character Death, Supernatural Elements, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3582327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firestar385/pseuds/Firestar385
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>From</i> The Spellbound Affair <i>: The murdered girl in the alley is not who she seems.  Detective Beckett and her team learn the hard way that Castle's supernatural theories aren't always so far-fetched with Detectives Ryan and Esposito end up in the same predicament as their victim.</i></p><p>In the alternate ending to TSA, Ryan and Esposito don't get the happy ending that they hoped for, and the adventure continues.  This story picks up after the end of <i>The Spellbound Affair</i> Chapter 63.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 64: July 15 - Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is intended to be not only an alternate ending to _The Spellbound Affair_ , but to open up a wide new alternate universe world focusing on the new family born out of the strife in TSA. This is the first part of a multi-story series that will hopefully span intermittently over the next 20 odd years and beyond. 
> 
> The usual disclaimers apply: I'm not making any money off of this, _Castle_ belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence. 
> 
> Author's notes are at the bottom. Please enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein awesome classic cars are ruined...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very similar to _The Spellbound Affair_ Chapter 64, however there are differences, especially at the end.

### Chapter Sixty-Four

**Note:** The alternate ending picks up, without interruption, directly following the end of _The Spellbound Affair_ Chapter 63. This will not make sense without reading the original story up to that point. If you need to go back, here's a shortcut: [_The Spellbound Affair_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/847383/chapters/1618837). Can't wait to see you back here!

##### On to the alternate ending...

Castle swore as he struggled to come to terms with the single vehicle wreck. Even Kate looked dumbfounded as she stared unblinkingly at the upside-down car. The only one whose head was still in the fight was Bianca. She took advantage of the necromancer’s split attention to rush closer and pummel the baddie with a barrage of spells from within the sphere of his shield. She succeeded in sending him flying into the trunk of a young tree, nearly snapping the innocent sapling in half. 

The writer realized that they had one chance to rescue the doctor from his wrecked car before the fumes turned into flames. With the dark and light witches focused entirely on each other, he could reach the car with less risk of getting blown to Timbuktu in the space between. First though, he had to secure his boys. 

The junior detectives were gaping at the combination of the overturned car and the broken tree. In order to face the driveway more squarely, they’d had to loosen their holds on Beckett. Castle took advantage of the opportunity to pull the kids away from his girlfriend and shove them back into the house. He pulled the front door shut. Hopefully they followed the unspoken but strongly implied command that they stay inside or it wouldn’t be the necromancer they’d have to worry about trying to kill them. 

He spared one last glance to check on the conflict between Bianca and Dresden. Bianca huffed slightly, catching her breath while the necromancer struggled to untangle himself from the mangled tree. Beckett launched herself in their direction, intent on arresting or (preferably) shooting Dresden in his smug face. He knew that fiery look in her eyes and it would be useless to try to stop her. It was up to Castle to drag the younger witch out of the GTO before it exploded. 

The car leaned towards the passenger side, meaning that the larger, less crushed window opening was next to the driver. That was a small miracle. Castle dropped to his knees and peered through the shattered window. Randy had a large gash in his forehead and he blinked to keep the blood out of his eyes from a smaller cut on his cheek. Castle sent up silent thanks that the witch was still alive for now. In ten seconds, maybe not. The smell of spilled gasoline was becoming nauseating. 

“Randy, can you hear me?”

“The seatbelt is stuck,” the doctor said through gritted teeth. “My shoulder’s wrenched and I can’t reach it with my other hand.” Well, that explained why the older man was basically dangling upside down from his seat. The top of his head nearly brushed the roof of his car, showing how much the upper part of the car had already given in. 

“Shit.” Castle tried to reach around for the jammed buckle but there wasn’t enough room in the crushed cabin. “Hold on.” He hurried around to the passenger side of the car. He disregarded the puddle of gas as he flopped down on his belly in the broken glass and tried to reach the buckle from that angle. The crushed frame prevented him from shoving his upper body into the car, meaning the seatbelt was still out of his reach. Cursing up a blue streak, he gave up and returned to the driver’s side. “Can you get it with magic?” he asked anxiously. 

“I… dizzy,” the older man admitted, pressing the palm of his hand to his forehead. Castle compared the amount of blood gathering on the roof of the car to the size of the gasoline puddle and his stomach clenched. He needed to get the man out of the car. The writer felt lightheaded himself from the fumes and he wasn’t suffering from significant blood loss. 

Crunching glass drew Castle’s attention to the front of the car and the nine-year-old that stood there in his Scooby-doo sleepwear and smelly leather sandals. “Kevin Ryan, you get your skinny little butt back into that house before I smack it so hard you can’t sit for a week!”

“You need my help,” said the boy defiantly. His little face was still pink from the long hours of pre-spell illness and the dried tears Castle had noticed when he retrieved the kids from their room. The color accented the determined glint in his eyes and the thin set of his mouth. The writer didn’t like that look one bit. 

Castle wasn’t fast enough to grab him before Kevin dropped to his hands and knees and crawled through the passenger side window. “Get out of there!” he shouted. His heart skipped a few beats when the frame of the car groaned and settled a couple more inches, shrinking the size of his son’s escape route. “Kevin!”

“Give me two seconds,” the boy argued. 

“Now!” Castle reached through the hole to grab Kevin’s ankle and tug. At this point, getting dragged over the broken glass would be the least of the detective’s concerns, but Castle couldn’t stomach the thought of how poorly the thin cotton pajamas would hold up during the move. He had to get the boy to come back out on his own. But convincing Detective Ryan to leave a friend stranded in a dire situation was something the writer was ill-equipped to do. 

“Just let me try,” Kevin pleaded as he kicked the writer’s hand away. The car let out another dying shriek and Randy feebly joined Castle’s bid to talk the child back to safety. Kevin ignored them both as he pressed down the release button and tugged on the belt. 

“Kevin, I swear--” 

“I’ve got it,” the nine-year-old said triumphantly. The two halves of the contraption separated and the doctor dropped the last six inches to rest fully on the roof of his car. The motion caused the car to rock and Castle had to back away to avoid getting pinched as the passenger side fully collapsed. 

He raced back to the driver’s side and nearly skidded on the gravel and broken glass. “Randy? Randy, can you move?” he asked frantically. He wanted the doctor to live, sure, but right now the man’s body was blocking his little boy’s only way out of the death trap. The horrible smell of burning plastic joined the gasoline fumes and Castle nearly lost his last meal at the sight of the thin curls of black smoke twisting out of the air conditioning vents. 

“Let me help.” 

Castle probably lost ten years of his life at the unexpected voice. He looked up at the grim face of Saul Davis, ignoring the ache in his chest as his heart thudded against his ribcage. 

Completely defenseless against the witch and hidden from Bianca’s view, Castle tried whatever he could think of to repel the overdressed villain. “Get back! Be gone, evil spirit!” He crossed his fingers to make a crucifix and held it up in Davis’ face. The witch blinked in confusion at him. “By the power of--”

“Oh, come off it,” snapped the witch. “You can’t exorcise me. Now move or you’ll lose both of them to a fireball.”

Castle didn’t have a better option. He brushed his hands off on his pants and then reached into the car to grasp Randy under the arm. Davis grabbed the other man’s shoulder and together they were able to pull the doctor out of the wreckage. Castle left Davis to help Randy limp into the grass side lawn while the writer renewed his admonishments for Kevin to get out of the car. This time the nine-year-old listened, crawling quickly through the window. Castle scooped him up as soon as he was clear and sprinted towards the two witches. 

“Get down!” 

Castle was already dropping to the grass with Kevin’s smaller body rolled protectively under his when he finally registered the shout. A split second later, the car exploded. The searing heat of the fireball washed over him and debris fell from the sky like metallic rain. He braced himself for a bigger impact, but fortunately none came. Once the patter of small scraps stopped hitting his back, he dared to look up and was practically blinded by the inferno that enveloped Randy’s sports car. 

“Castle? Castle, can’t breathe.” The author had momentarily forgotten about the crushing hold he had on his younger boy. He loosened his hold just enough to allow the kid’s lungs to fully expand.

“You are in so much trouble,” the older man promised, unable to take his eyes off of the burning car. Kevin grinned self-gratifyingly and snuggled into the writer’s broad chest. Castle huffed. Kevin was sorely mistaken if he thought being thirty-four again would save him from the writer’s wrath. In the meantime, Castle rested his chin heavily on the boy’s tangled blonde locks and mentally regrouped before setting out to find Javier and help for the doctor.

xXx

The edges of Beckett’s vision went red after Randy’s car was flipped with the doctor still inside. She had no idea if the witch was alive or not. Not that it mattered either way - Beckett was going to put an end to Dresden right now.

She chambered a bullet and stormed towards the place where Dresden had impacted the tree after Bianca brought him down. She towered over the man and held her gun unwaveringly, pointing it directly at the space between his eyes. “You’re under arrest, jackhole.”

Instead of pleading his case or stating his innocence, the downed witch started to laugh manically. It took all of Beckett’s will power to not silence him permanently. Her desire to do the right thing and play by the book stayed her hand, even though she could see the cracks in his shield. He was at her mercy, anyway, and a pair of handcuffs would do just as well as a lead ball at keeping him that way. 

Her mercy proved to be her undoing. Dresden surged upwards, using his unnatural speed to catch her off guard. A moment later her back impacted a neighboring tree. The rough bark of the mature oak’s trunk dug into her skin through the thin material of her wrinkled shirt. She struggled to regain the wind that had been knocked out of her. The necromancer’s putrid breath fanned over her face, bringing back the unpleasant memories of their altercation the day before. 

“Get off of me,” she growled, scratching at the fingers wrapped around her throat. Instead of letting go, Dresden tightened his hold, causing black dots to dance around the perimeter of her vision. She could sense that he was trying to use magic on her but the charmed necklace resisted him. 

“Dresden, release her!” shouted Bianca. The white witch tried to pull the horrible man off of the detective but her strength lay in her magic, not her physical body. Any spell Bianca summoned strong enough to dislodge the necromancer would probably kill Beckett. To that end, the evil man, not having the same qualms about hurting anyone close to Bianca, blasted the good witch directly in the chest with an attack that sent her rolling across the grass. 

“Bianca!” Beckett choked when Dresden tightened his hold on her throat even more. She was forced to look at him, leaving her in the dark about Bianca’s well-being. She momentarily despaired that they’d lost both of their witchy allies. She pushed the thought away forcefully. She would not give up while boiling blood still pumped through her veins. She didn’t need magic to protect her unconventional little family. 

It would help though. Beckett dug her nails into Dresden’s wrist as her sight began to waver and brought her knee up between his legs. Both her aim and force were off due to her on-going struggle to breathe. Still, he staggered a small distance away, giving Beckett the chance to draw precious air into her lungs and cough up the stench of his breath. Unfortunately, he recovered more quickly than she. She barely had time to raise her arms to protect her face when he swung at her, the blow knocking her back against the tree again. “You’ll pay for that, bitch.”

His magic surged around her again, yet could not penetrate the superficial barrier created by Bianca’s necklace. Out of patience for the interfering jewelry, Dresden grabbed the charm in his fist and his hand began to glow brightly. The metal chain instantly started to smolder and she could smell her own burning flesh. She was just about to cry out in pain when the chain snapped and Dresden threw the locket across the yard. Instantly, she could feel tendrils of magic creeping over her like an unwanted caress and she lost the ability to control her limbs. 

“What will do you do now, without your witches and charms to protect you, Detective?” He pressed the full length of his body against hers, trapping her against the tree trunk. Now that she was restrained by magic, his hands were free to wander over her torso. She couldn’t even gag as the necromancer continued his assault, hissing disgusting tidbits of his plans for her into her ear. She fought against her invisible bonds, throwing all of her might into willing her arms or legs to move as his dirty fingers slipped under her shirt to slide over the soft skin of her belly. He was in for great disappointment if he thought she’d ever submit to him in the bedroom, restraining spell or not. 

She nearly cracked a tooth clamping them together so tightly as she pushed against the magical chains. She tried to turn away from him when he brought his face in close, but his hand on her chin prevented the movement. He licked the side of her straining neck and over her cheek. “My, my, Detective. Is that salt I taste?” He chuckled maliciously before repeating the gesture. “Who’s been making you cry?” 

“Get off!” Her jawed ached as she unclenched it enough let the words through. She hadn’t really thought he would comply, but he pulled back unexpectedly with an irate snarl. He twisted around to swat at whatever had interrupted him. Beckett sucked in an anxious breath when she saw her eleven-year-old land hard on his rump in the dirt, cupping his injured cheek from where Dresden had just backhanded him. Javier glared hatefully at the necromancer and didn’t stay on the ground long. 

“Leave her alone, you sick bastard!” Javier launched himself at the older man again, trying to do as much damage as he could with his little fists. Beckett could tell that the potion running through his body, in preparation for the new spell, was slowing down his movements and weakening his punches. Just hours ago he’d barely been able to lift his head as a brutal fever raged within him. It was no surprise that Dresden could flick him away with little effort. 

But Javier wouldn’t give up. He stumbled back a few yards after Dresden’s last shove but managed to keep his feet. He had to take a few deep breaths to summon his strength. Dresden, considering himself finished with the child, turned his disgusting attention back to Beckett. She renewed her own fight against the invisible restraints, now doubly determined to rescue both herself and Javier. 

The necromancer had just managed to land his hands on her again when he jerked away with an enraged shout. The debilitating spell broke and Beckett dropped to the ground to immediately cough up a mouthful of bile. Her skin crawled with the memory of his touch and she didn’t know if a hundred scalding showers could ever wash it away. 

She could deal with that later, though. Once she finished dry-heaving, she searched out her savior. 

The necromancer continued to shout angry curses as he grabbed Javier’s upper arm and bodily threw the boy away from himself. He ripped a bloody pocket knife from his lower back while he staggered after the child. Beckett felt her blood turn to ice at the villain’s murderous visage, directed at her Hispanic partner. Her frozen nerves couldn’t transmit her desperate attempts to get to her feet and jump in front of her baby. 

However, the necromancer was unable to catch up to Javier as the cursed detective scrambled backwards, away from the mad man. Dresden suffered a spasm every few seconds and eventually dropped to the ground, frothing at the mouth. A couple of yards away, Javier blinked in surprise at the reaction he’d gotten from driving Bianca’s gift into the bad man’s kidney. 

“Katherine, are you all right?” Bianca hurried to the younger woman’s side, disregarding the dying sounds of the necromancer behind them. Well, Beckett didn’t think he was actually dying, but she could hope. At least it sounded like he was suffering. 

“I feel sick,” she said. And violated. Physically and mentally. She just wanted Castle to hold her and erase the feel of the other man’s hands on her. Maybe after she took a shower. Or Castle could hold her in the shower. They better have a lifetime supply of soap stashed in that tiny bathroom. 

“But you’re alive,” said Bianca in relief. She pushed herself off the ground, already seeking out their adversary. Beckett didn’t miss the way that Bianca’s usually fluid movements were hindered. The older woman practically dropped to her knees beside the gurgling Dresden and had to take a moment to regain her bearings. Once steadied, she retrieved a small vial from her pocket with stiff motions. 

“Beckett?” Javier knelt next to her when the white witch left, his face filled with concern. 

The need to be strong welled within her. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” Beckett reached over to take his trembling hand. She dared to look at the convulsing man and shuddered at the sight. “What’s wrong with him?”

“The knife was infused with white magic,” explained Bianca. She sprinkled the contents of her vial over the tormentor and muttered a short spell. With one final, ear-splitting scream, the man’s body convulsed and his lightless aura imploded, sucking in his skeletal spirit like a black hole. In its place was left a decayed corpse, the face twisted into a howl of agony. 

The white witch returned to Beckett’s side. “Do not look at him,” said Bianca softly as she brushed Beckett’s hair away from her face. 

“What happened?”

“When your brave little soldier stabbed him, it transferred the white magic directly into him where it reacted negatively with his dark spirit.” Bianca rubbed Javier’s back fondly and Beckett could see the faint glow as the witch imparted strength to the boy that she probably couldn’t afford to spare. She appreciated it, however. He looked worn out from his short little spat. “While dangerous, it was the most expedient way to neutralize his power.”

“Good boy, Javi,” mumbled Beckett. She absently rubbed at the thin lines of burned skin near her throat where the necklace had once rested. 

“I didn’t know it would do all that,” admitted Javi. “I was just trying to get him off of you and it was the only weapon I had.” His expression darkened from one of concern to one of hate. “But I’m glad it did. If I was full size, I’d break his stupid neck.”

“You just stay here by me,” she said. The tortured sounds of the necromancer still rang in her ears, even though they had stopped minutes ago. 

“He’s gone,” stated Bianca. “You gave me the chance to do the final spell that undid his spirit and ended his unnaturally prolonged life. Truly, you are a treasure, child.” Javier ducked his head momentarily before looking up shyly through his dark lashes at his female partner. 

“I’m just glad you’re all right, Becks.”

“You too, sweetheart.”

From across the yard, a stranger called out to the white witch. “Bianca?” Bianca, Beckett, and Javier all turned towards the incredulous newcomers. A group of four witches, vaguely recognizable from the Council, walked towards them. In the distance, the ruin of the GTO smoked but the flames were extinguished. “What happened here? We have come to help.”

“You’re a little late,” said Beckett sardonically.

xXx

Despite the fact that the witches from the Council had arrived too late to actually do something about Dresden, they were useful for cleaning up the mess in the yard. That left Bianca and Randy free to tend to their injuries and Castle to comfort his little family. Thankfully, the doctor’s prognosis was much better than Castle had originally feared. As was its wont, the gash in the witch’s forehead had gushed theatrically but little real damage had been done. Hanging upside down in the car hadn’t helped to staunch the flow, either.

By the time Castle learned the full story about the necromancer’s fitting end, the Council had already incinerated his remains and stashed the urn out of sight. The writer would have traded his fortune for the chance to confront the disgusting man who had tried force himself on Kate. Unable to find comfort in vengeance, Castle resigned himself to being thankful the assault hadn’t gone any further and working to erase the other man’s touch from his girlfriend’s memory. 

Kate was in the shower now, washing away the dirt and the sweat from the fight while the witches made final preparations for the last stage of the spell to undo the retrogression curse. Castle sat with his boys, making sure their adrenaline-fueled exploits in the mini-battle hadn’t worn them out too much. He was perched on the edge of the bed, fiddling with his phone and hating Dresden with more passion than he really wanted to waste on the villain. Javier leaned against his left arm, hugging the appendage for both comfort and balance. Kevin was curled up to the right of Castle, on the verge of dozing off again. Like the original retrogression spell, the pre-spell left them achy and tired. 

A soft knock on the door heralded Randy’s entrance into the room. Thanks to the unfair healing advantage that the witches possessed, a small Band-Aid was all required now to cover the cut above his eye. Castle nodded grimly at the doctor.

“Ready?” Randy asked in a low voice. 

“You sure you’re feeling up to this?” Castle asked. He gave the witch a hard look. The writer knew that they had a finite window of time in which the final stage of the spell could be completed, but he wasn’t going to risk his friends’ well-being. 

“Yes,” said the other man confidently. “I would not risk it if I did not think I had enough strength to complete the spell.” He smirked at the author. “Are _you_ sure about this, though? They’re pretty useful at this size.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” said Castle. “When they’re big, they won’t be able to crawl through collapsing car windows anymore.”

“I would have just lifted the car up,” said Javier. At least, that’s what Castle thought he heard. The words were kind of mumbled, given the way they were spoken directly into the side of Castle’s arm. 

“I’m sure you would have,” replied Castle skeptically. He shrugged his shoulder to get the eleven-year-old to sit up straight. “You prepared for this, buddy?”

“Yeah.” Despite the confident delivery of the reply, Javier made no move to let go of Castle’s arm or unhide his face. 

“I’ve been thinking about it,” started Randy, looking between the two detectives. “The second spell - the one that bumped them up to nine and eleven - seems to be an overlay to the original retrogression. It would be better to remove it first, and then address the primary spell.”

“Meaning they’ll be small… well, _smaller_ … again?” asked Castle. 

“Yes, but just temporarily,” said the doctor. 

“I don’t want to be six again,” stated Javier, finally looking up at the witch. The petulant tone penetrated Kevin’s sleepy haze. The younger boy sat up with a concerned frown.

“You’ll be thirty-six in a few hours,” said the writer. He switched his attention to Randy. “Is it going to take much magic to undo the second spell?” His main concern was how Kevin would react to the change, and if it would interfere with his ability to return to adulthood. 

“No,” said Randy. “It’s kind of like a Band-Aid. It’ll only take a minute and I can change them both at the same time so the little one is set when it’s his turn.”

There wasn't much Castle could do besides trust that Randy knew what he was talking about. “Come on guys,” said Castle, nudging both of the hesitant detectives. “This is what you’ve been waiting for, for over two weeks. Let’s not put it off any longer.”

“We’re going in the wrong direction,” grumbled Javier. Nevertheless, he scooted forward so he was sitting on the edge of the bed with his feet dangling off the side. Kevin followed his partner’s lead. Castle stayed as close to the pair as he could while keeping out of Randy’s way. 

Randy took one of the boys’ hands in each of his own. The witch breathed in deeply and then closed his eyes. Castle imagined that the older man seemed to glow from within, but when he blinked, the effect was gone. He didn’t imagine, however, the spirals of flashing lights that spun around each of the boys, obscuring them from view. Like that fateful Friday night in June, the bright magical cocoons shrunk down with the physical bodies of the detectives. With a brilliant burst of light, the magic blinked out of sight, leaving a four- and six-year-old drowning in clothes that were much too big. Javier’s were especially big, given that he’d already changed into adult clothes in preparation for undoing the spell. 

Unlike the first Friday, the boys didn’t faint at the end of the transformation. Randy released their hands and backed away to give them a chance to catch their breath and regain their bearings. Castle hovered anxiously, one hand poised at each boy’s back in case he started to topple over. 

Javier coughed a few times, but otherwise recovered quickly. Kevin lost his hold on a muted groan of discomfort and let himself fall back down into a prone position on the bed. The three older males all watched the four-year-old closely until Kevin stated that he was fine. 

“I’ll start setting things up in the other room. Just come over when you’re ready,” said Randy. He bowed out of the room to give the three friends some privacy. 

“Come here,” said Castle, holding out his arms invitingly to the older boy. Javier rose up to his knees so he could wrap his arms around Castle’s neck. The writer returned the hug tightly. “Thank you for saving Kate today,” he whispered, followed by a kiss to the dark hair above Javier’s ear. 

“Always,” said the boy in an equally low voice. “Thank you for… everything.”

“My pleasure. I love you, son.” Castle blinked back the moisture gathering in his eyes and was glad the macho veteran couldn’t see the action. It turns out he wasn’t the only one feeling sentimental. He easily felt the slight hitch in Javier’s breathing. With a faint chuckle, he pressed another kiss to Javier’s temple and then pushed the younger man back so Castle could see his face. “You haven’t seen the last of me, kiddo. I’m sure that by the end of the day, you’ll be glad you can get away from me.”

Javier shrugged in response, his chin dipped down to his chest. “You’re not that bad.”

“Just wait until I pull out all of the videos I made over the past two weeks.” Castle pressed his fingers into Javier’s side, eliciting a surprised laugh from the six-year-old. “Okay, say ‘see ya’ to your little brother and then I’ll walk you over to the witches.” 

Castle stood up from the bed to give Javier access to Kevin. He stretched his hands over his head and grimaced as the muscles pulled in his back. He definitely needed to schedule a visit to his chiropractor. 

Javier scooted closer to his partner and looked down seriously at the smaller boy. “I’m going now.”

“Have fun,” said Kevin. His light-hearted tone sounded painfully forced. 

“I will. You better not wimp out on me and decide to stay small after all.”

“There’s no chance of that,” said Kevin.

Javier gazed at the younger boy for a long moment. Castle could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to phrase his next statement. “Just… make it through the spell, okay? I don’t want to spend our first days as adults again in a hospital because you had to get sick.”

“I’ll be okay,” said Kevin. He smiled encouragingly at his partner. “You should take your own advice though. Just because you didn’t get the fun of a cancer scare last time doesn’t mean you’re immune.”

Javier guffawed. “Espositos don’t get cancer.” 

“Yeah right.”

Javier stuck his tongue out at the prone blond. Kevin returned the gesture and they both laughed at their own ridiculousness. Castle wished he had his video camera now. He settled for smiling widely as he watched them banter. They did need to start making their way down the hall, though, so he had to interrupt them. “Let’s go, buddy.” He brushed his hand over the top of Javier’s dark hair. 

“See ya in a few, Javi.”

“See ya in a few, Kev.”

Castle let Javier precede him through the door to the hall. He admonished Kevin to stay put until he returned and then closed the door softly behind himself. He grinned down at the Hispanic boy, who looked back at him curiously. “What?” asked the boy self-consciously. 

“You look ridiculous in your getup,” Castle said.

“Castle!” His face flushed red and Javier half-heartedly punched the older man’s stomach. This was a look that Castle couldn’t possibly miss capturing for all eternity. He whipped out his phone and pointed it at the six-year-old. He didn’t think Javier had ever looked as adorable as he did then, drowning in a man’s tee-shirt with men’s sleep pants cinched around his waist and pooling at his ankles, and his face flushed with embarrassment. Javier made a grab for the phone but the writer easily held it out of reach over his head. 

“Let’s go, Espo. Your destiny awaits.”

“You’re horrible,” complained the younger man as he slipped his hand into Castle’s. The writer smiled fondly in response to the exasperated words. He started them down the short hall to the last and smallest bedroom on the second floor. 

The bed had been pushed towards the middle of the room to allow room for chairs on either side of it. The diminutive window, now centered over the mattress, cast a square of warm yellow light onto the blanket. Bianca, seated on the near side of the bed, beckoned for the Hispanic detective to approach her. Javier hesitated, his little fingers tightening around Castle’s. 

“You’re okay,” soothed the writer, pushing their conjoined hands forward to encourage the boy to start moving. “I’m not going to leave you here alone.”

Javier took a deep breath and dropped Castle’s hand. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked nervously at Bianca. The white witch smiled in an effort to soothe him, but her mused hair and clothes detracted from her efforts. This was the first time Castle had seen the witch sport an appearance less than perfectly tailored. She looked more human, sure, but right now Castle was more interested in the help of a powerful, poised witch. 

At least her bearing was normal. Bianca cupped Javier’s face and stared into his chocolate-colored eyes, performing one last check to confirm he was ready for the spell. She nodded briefly to Randy, seated on the opposite side of the bed, and released Javier. “Lay down, _tesoro_. You will be more comfortable that way.” 

As the Hispanic boy struggled to find a comfortable position - having everyone watching him so closely probably wasn’t helping him relax - Randy asked if he had any questions. Javier shook his head slowly. With the practiced ease of someone long in the medical field, the doctor calmly started to describe what he thought would happen once he started the spell. His low voice gradually pushed some of the anxiety out of the room and Castle found himself feeling a bit better about all of this, too. It helped to know what to expect. Apparently, Javier didn’t feel the same. 

“This was kind of easier when the other witches just did it,” muttered Javier at the ceiling. 

“Less build up, hm?” Bianca brushed her hand over his forehead, smoothing away a few of the wrinkles. 

There was a short knock on the door, followed by Kate’s prompt entry. Her hair was twisted into a damp braid and her face was clear of makeup, allowing her natural beauty to shine. She looked relieved when she saw that they hadn’t started without her. Instead of standing next to Castle, she claimed the last chair next to Bianca and folded her hands around one of Javier’s. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” 

“Hi.”

Kate’s brow furrowed and she looked between the three adults in confusion. “Why is he so little?”

“He made me stupid small again,” complained Javier, pointing at the doctor. 

“It’s better that we remove the second spell before undoing the first,” said Randy patiently. “The little one is smaller again, too.”

“Oh,” said Kate faintly. She didn’t look convinced that taking her boys back five years again was necessary, but she held her peace. 

Kate’s eyes never left Javier’s as Randy placed one large palm on top of Javier’s head and clasped the boy’s free hand with his other. Bianca leaned back in her chair, content to watch until Randy indicated that he needed her. Castle waited until Javier’s body started to glow from the influx of the magic and his eyes fell closed, and then the writer silently slipped out of the room so he could check on Kevin.

_to be continued..._


	2. 65: July 15 - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein things start to fall apart...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I'm not making any money off of this, _Castle_ belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Sixty-Five

Beckett forced herself to stay calm as the brightness of the faint aura around her partner ebbed and flowed. She consciously monitored how tightly she held his little hand so she wouldn’t accidentally hurt him. Her building adrenaline was due to a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. She could not wait until Javier and Kevin were back to normal - back to Detective Esposito and Detective Ryan. At the same time, she feared something terrible would happen.

So far, the counter-spell was going smoothly. Javier’s naturally tan face remained lax and free from signs of pain or distress. Likewise, Randy was at ease. The doctor witch’s mouth moved as he spoke silently to himself, weaving his spell. Thanks to her new second sight, Beckett was able to keep track of her partner’s well-being based on the strength of his natural aura. 

Bianca hummed to herself as she blindly tended to her mussed hair. Her gaze never left the bed, but Beckett could tell that her mind wandered occasionally. The lapses were brief, so the detective didn’t call the older woman out. At least, that was the impression Beckett got, considering she hardly ever looked away from Javier. 

Randy paused and took a deep breath before transitioning to the next part of the spell. Nothing seemed amiss to Beckett, but Bianca sat upright and focused more closely on the spellwork. Randy murmured a few short phrases, one hand hovering a few inches over the child’s chest and the other loosely circling Javier’s wrist. For the first time, Javier’s face scrunched up in discomfort. The doctor paused to check on his patient’s state. Javier relaxed again, so the witch continued his work. 

A moment later, Javier gasped in pain, though he remained unconscious. “What’s wrong?” demanded Beckett. Bianca scooted forward and placed her hand on Javier’s knee. 

“The retrogression’s permanence is due to the spell’s close integration with his being,” said the white witch. “I imagine having it removed feels like withdrawing a knife from a wound.”

“That sounds pleasant,” muttered Beckett. She let go of Javier’s hand with one of hers so she could press her cool palm against his warm forehead. 

Randy frowned as he paused once again. “Bianca…”

“I’ve got it,” said the older witch. She moved her hand from Javier’s knee to his bare ankle, where she pressed her index and middle fingers against his pulse point. A soft, rhythmic thudding sound filled the room. Beckett realized that Bianca was monitoring her partner’s heartbeat using her witchy abilities in place of an EKG machine. It was a little faster than typical for a six-year-old, but given the stress he was under, Beckett didn’t let herself start to panic just yet. 

Randy continued as carefully as he could. Javier moaned and his heart stuttered rapidly for a second. Beckett’s concern ratcheted up when her partner’s aura darkened as redness bled up to stain its tip. “This doesn’t look right,” said Randy. Javier’s heart stuttered again, then settled on an increasing tempo. Beckett’s own heart started pounding rapidly, nearly matching Javier’s for speed. And then his outpaced hers. 

“Damn it!” Bianca stood up, toppling her chair, and leaned over the shuddering child. She kept her fingers pressed tightly against Javier’s pulse point at his ankle and reached her other hand towards his chest. The little boy’s heart was beating so fast that it sounded to Beckett like the pulses were overlapping each other. Javier writhed in pain and started to cough as his breathing was hampered. 

“What’s going on?” demanded the detective. She had to shout to hear herself over the ringing in her ears and the echoing thuds of Javier’s heart beat. 

“He’s going into cardiac arrest,” said Randy. The unveiled worry in his voice nearly gave Beckett a heart attack, too. 

“Do something!” she yelled. She was standing now as well, tightly clasping Javier’s hand. “Make it stop!” 

Bianca’s white aura intensified as she pushed healing magic into the cursed detective. The pure magic was absorbed without aiding him at all. Randy also tried to stabilize the failing six-year-old, but his efforts were futile. Javier whined low in his throat. The sound was barely audible over Bianca’s cursing as her healing continued to have no effect. 

“Make it stop!” Beckett could feel the hot tears cascading over her cheeks as she demanded that the witches bring her partner’s heart rate back to a safe pace and return his blackened aura to gold. 

A burst of gold light from the little boy momentarily gave Beckett hope that disaster was adverted. That hope was immediately dashed when his faint glow evaporated completely. The background thudding from the magical EKG went silent. Javier’s tortured writhing stopped and his heaving chest fell flat. The little boy lay perfectly still. 

Beckett needed a moment to understand what had just happened. Realization hit her like a speeding semi. “That is NOT what I meant!” She desperately pressed her fingers under his chin, searching for the faint pulse that would assure her that her partner wasn’t gone. “Javi! Javier…” She could hardly yell anymore around her devastated sobs. The door to the bedroom opening and closing barely registered to the detective. 

“Kate!” Strong hands gripped her shoulders and forcefully pulled her away from the side of the bed. Away from her partner. 

“No! NO!” Beckett clawed at the arms surrounding her, holding her against a body that was just as wracked with sobs as hers. “Javier!”

“Kate. Gods, Kate,” wept Castle into her hair. 

“Do something!” screeched the lead detective at the hapless witches. She started to cough and had to swallow convulsively to keep the bile rising in her throat from escaping. The only thing holding her up now was Castle, who must have come running at the sound of her screams.

“Katherine,” said Bianca slowly, as if trying to calm a skittish animal. She purposefully stood between the devastated lovers and the bed, blocking the lifeless child’s body from Beckett’s sight. The witch’s eyes were watery, though no tears fell. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” snapped Beckett. Her anguish morphed into anger. “Fix him.”

“There’s nothing to fix,” said the older woman softly. “Nora Bellefonte… she must have put a failsafe in the spell, so that if anyone besides her tried to undo it, it would stop his heart. It happened so quickly that there was no time to prevent it.”

Pounding on the bedroom door, coming from about waist-high, captured all of their attention. “Beckett? Castle? What’s going on?” Kevin’s voice, muffled as it was through the wood, sounded terrified. 

The two lovers stared at each other, unsure of what to do. “This can’t be happening,” said Castle with a low groan. “This has to be a bad dream. Someone wake me up.”

Randy’s horror at the tragic way his counter-spell had backfired left him frozen in shock. He came to suddenly, his witchy glow flaring wildly. He held his hands over the prone form in preparation for more magic. “Randall.” Bianca turned around to confront the younger witch. “There’s nothing…” 

“His spirit hasn’t fled yet,” said the doctor. His brow furrowed in determination. 

“You can’t bring him back,” said the white witch. “The failsafe is irreversible.”

“I’m going to try,” stated Randy firmly. “If the point is to prevent us from removing the spell, then I’ll just put it back.” His hands glowed brightly where he placed them on Javier’s forehead and over his still heart. 

From the hall, her younger partner continued his assault on the locked door. “Beckett! Let me in!” 

“Rick…” Beckett didn’t want to lose his comfort, but she refused to let Kevin see his best friend this way. The writer was of a similar mindset. Castle summoned his courage and hastily wiped his cheeks dry with his hands. After a fortifying inhale, he marched toward the door and pulled it open. He caught the four-year-old before Kevin could make any progress into the room. The blond’s demands to know what was going on echoed back to Beckett as Castle carried him down the hall to boys’ temporary guest room. 

Beckett pressed her fist against her mouth to hold in her sobs as she watched Randy work. The doctor witch was sweating profusely as he strained to pump as much energy into repairing the damage as he could muster. “Be careful,” cautioned Bianca. She looked pained as she monitored her peer’s progress. 

“Everything is back to the way it was. I just have to overcome the failsafe and restart his heart,” said the doctor between pants for air. He sounded like he was running a marathon and Beckett hoped she was only imagining the way his arms trembled. 

For a moment, the detective thought she was seeing double when Javier was suddenly encased in a semi-transparent shroud. When it started to rise off of the bed, she was reminded of the way Dresden’s soul had fled his corpse after Bianca finished him off. Her stomach turned on her and the room spun sickly around her as she realized that Javier’s spirit was also heading heavenward. She had to drop to the floor and hide her face under her arms. She couldn’t physically cry hard enough to express the terrible loss she felt. 

“No, damn it,” ground out Randy. “I’m not losing him.”

“Too much of his life force is gone,” said Bianca tearfully. She ran her hands over her face in defeat. 

“Then I’ll give him mine,” snapped the doctor. 

“Randall, you can’t be so reckless,” lectured Bianca. She straightened her shoulders and approached the bed to continue trying to talk down the younger witch. 

“My family is the one that did this to them. I will fix this,” Randy said angrily. “If I’m as gifted as you say I am, then I can overcome my mother’s spell.” He looked down, refocusing on Javier’s pale form. The atmosphere grew tense as he ignored Bianca’s admonishments and put everything he had into reversing his mother’s devastating curse. 

The air in the room pressed against Beckett as if it was trying to expand but had nowhere to go. The ringing in her ears increased in volume and her lungs burned. She was about to cry out for the witches to stop whatever they were doing when the pressure spontaneously exploded. Beckett lost her balance and barely braced herself before landing hard on her side. There was a thud across the room as someone else wasn’t so quick to catch themselves. “Randall!” shouted Bianca. Around her, anything that wasn’t bolted down toppled over. A falling lamp from the antique dresser barely missed Beckett’s head. 

The witches from the Council that hadn’t left yet to return to the city poured into the room. They surrounded the bed, the cacophony of their voices making it impossible to understand anything being said. Beckett could see nothing, which she considered a small blessing. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to erase from her mind the image of her junior partner’s tiny remains looking so fragile on the rumpled bed. The destruction in the room seemed to confirm to her that all hope was lost.

_to be continued..._


	3. 66: July 15 - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the family reacts to Javi's near-tragedy and the counter-spell failing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, _Castle_ belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Sixty-Six

_The witches from the Council that hadn’t left yet to return to the city poured into the room. They surrounded the bed, the cacophony of their voices making it impossible to understand anything being said. Beckett could see nothing, which she considered a small blessing. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to erase from her mind the image of her junior partner’s tiny remains looking so fragile on the rumpled bed. The destruction in the room seemed to confirm to her that all hope was lost._

Bianca emerged from the crowd of witches carrying the bed’s wadded up comforter. “Here,” she said hurriedly. “Go back to your room.” She pressed the bundle into Beckett’s arms before practically hauling the detective to her feet. 

“What happened?” Confusion momentarily overrode her grief. 

“Just go.” Bianca pushed her toward the open door. Beckett went, unable to direct her own body. Bianca slammed the door behind her and Beckett clearly heard the lock engage again. Alone in the hall, Beckett finally took the time to consider her burden, which was much heavier than a thin comforter should have been. It was also shivering, quite unlike inanimate objects. 

Beckett dropped to her knees and carefully placed the bundle on the ground. With her heart racing once more, she pulled back the corner of the thick cover, revealing her junior partner’s head and upper torso. The six-year-old was trembling and his face was scrunched up in pain. All that mattered to Beckett was that he was _alive_. His golden aura was barely visible, but it was there. Somehow, Randy had succeeded to pull Javier back from death’s door. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” She cupped his face in both hands and pressed frantic kisses to his cheeks, forehead, eyelids, nose… whatever she hit. “Javier. Thank goodness, Javi.” Fresh tears cascaded down her raw cheeks, but this time it was relief and joy she felt instead of complete devastation. “I love you. Love you so much. Javi, thank goodness.” She abandoned her kisses to pull him in close. 

Her attention seemed to partially revive him from his near-death experience. He didn’t say anything, but he lifted his weak arms up to wrap around her neck. Beckett hugged him as tightly as she could. She was unable to believe that he’d died for a minute, and then was unable to believe he’d miraculously been brought back. 

Knowing that the other half of her little family was still in the dark about Javier’s condition, she forced herself to her feet without loosening her hold on the six-year-old. She walked as quickly as she could toward the next door on the right. 

Inside the bedroom that Castle and Beckett were borrowing, the writer sat on the bed with his back to the door. His hunched shoulders shook as he mourned the loss of the esteemed Detective Javier Esposito. As she walked around the foot of the bed, she could see that he held Kevin - her _son_ , because there was no way she was going to let the witches try again on the younger boy - tightly in his lap. The four-year-old sobbed into Castle’s shoulder. She didn’t know if her boyfriend had told him what happened to Javier, but Kevin wasn’t stupid. He would have put the pieces together. She couldn’t even imagine how scared he must be, rightly assuming he’d have to remain a child and knowing he’d have to do it alone.

Castle didn’t even look up as Beckett set her precious bundle on the bed. She kept her eyes on the pair as she gently uncurled Javier’s arms from around her shoulders. It was easier than she would have liked. Javier didn’t have the strength to keep himself upright. He flopped down onto the bed, his dark eyes shuttered behind pale eyelids. 

“Castle,” she said, her voice no louder than a whisper. She reached over to touch his shoulder. 

Castle lifted his head to acknowledge her. Beckett could see that Kevin’s tangled locks were wet from where Castle’s tears had fallen on him. Her joy tangled with her pain at seeing how much her loved ones hurt. She watched Castle’s face as his red-rimmed eyes shifted to look past her, to where Javier lay limply. “For Pete’s sake, Kate,” he said with a hint of anger. He brought one hand up to cup the back of Kevin’s head, preventing the four-year-old from looking at his partner. 

“It’s okay,” said the lead detective. She sniffled and wiped at her sore cheek. She could almost feel the salt caked to her skin. “Randy brought him back.” She ghosted her fingers over Javier’s neck, a spot she knew was ticklish. The six-year-old huffed and shrugged his shoulder, trying to block her touch. Exhausted chocolate eyes opened in narrow slits, seeking her out. 

“No,” said Castle disbelievingly. His eyes widened as he stared at the older boy. 

“Yes,” said Kate. She smiled tearfully. She reached for Kevin so she could draw the distraught child into her own lap, leaving Castle free to see for himself that Javier was truly alive. Kevin’s cries dried up to the point of shuddering inhales and sniffles as he watched the writer lift Javier out of his blanket cocoon. Javier didn’t have the strength to stand, so it was up to the older man to hold him upright. His adult T-shirt hung off of him like a dress. 

“Hey, buddy,” said Castle, dipping his chin so he could look up into Javier’s white-washed face. The Hispanic child blinked slowly in response and Beckett imagined that he was just as happy to see Castle as the writer was to see him. Once he’d had his fill of gazing upon his future son, Castle pulled Javier into a hug. The six-year-old managed to return the embrace loosely. His heavy head rested on the author’s broad shoulder. Castle rubbed his back rhythmically while supporting most of Javier's slight weight with his other arm. 

“How?” asked Castle, seeking out his girlfriend. 

“I’m not sure,” replied Beckett. “Randy somehow revived him.” The memory of the thud following the burst of energy that had brought Javier back popped into her mind. The way the witches had stormed into the room and surrounded the bed… The genuine worry in Bianca’s expression when she handed Javier off to the detective… Her relief was instantly dampened when she realized what might have been the cost of saving her partner. 

“Why did it go wrong?” asked Kevin.

“I don’t know, baby boy,” said Kate. “Bianca tried to explain it to me, but I wasn’t paying very good attention.”

“Can they still break the curse?”

“I don’t know,” whispered the senior detective. What she did know is that she wasn’t ready to try again. _Ever_.

xXx

It was hours before Castle was drawn out of his half-doze by a soft knock on the bedroom door. He groaned as he rubbed his hand over his face. He took a moment to check on his friends. The little boys were curled up together, their roles temporarily reversed with Kevin wrapped around Javier. The older boy was dressed again in an eleven-year-old's pajamas, the best the unprepared writer could do for him. Kate laid next to them, a victim of her exhaustion after the emotional afternoon and evening. She didn’t even flinch as the bed shifted slightly when he stood up.

On the other side of the door stood Bianca. She appeared just as worn out as the rest of them. The glass of her favorite purple concoction took both of her hands to remain aloft. “How is my little treasure doing?” she asked in a rough voice. 

“I’m not sure how someone is supposed to act after flat-lining and then being brought back using magic,” said Castle. “But he’s quite out of it and has next to no strength.”

“That’s to be expected,” she said. “May I come in?”

Castle stepped aside so she could enter. He was surprised that only the white witch had come to check on Javier. “Where’s Randy? I hear we owe him Javier’s life.”

Bianca just shook her head and moved to the side of the bed. She took a few seconds to watch the three detectives sleep. “We need to wake him up so he can drink this,” she said at length. 

“Why don’t you take a seat,” suggested the writer. He guided her to the foot of the bed. Reassured that the older woman wouldn’t pass out on him, Castle carefully pried Kevin away from his best friend so he could pick up Javier. After wrapping the child again in his blanket cocoon, Castle sat down with his back against the headboard and settled Javier into his lap. He cradled the boy’s head against his shoulder. Javier grumbled weakly at being woken up and manhandled off of the soft bedding. 

“Here,” said Bianca, handing the glass to Castle. The writer took it and held it up to Javier’s pink lips. At first, the little boy refused the herbal mixture. Castle persisted, practically pouring the liquid into Javier’s mouth. The cursed detective had no choice but to swallow it. 

Having managed to get the child to nurse the drink slowly, Castle looked to Bianca. “What happened?”

“There was an element to the retrogression spell that was not included in Nora Bellefonte’s grimoire,” said Bianca. “She had added an anti-counter trigger so that if anyone besides her tried to undo her spell, it would cause her subject to suffer cardiac arrest. It was meant to prevent someone like me from returning the boys to adulthood.”

“Why?” Castle didn’t expect Bianca to know what had possessed the Bellefonte matriarch to so thoroughly destroy his friends’ lives. His question was more for the universe at large. 

“She was desperate, power-hungry, and no small amount of evil,” said Bianca. “It is impossible that so much unnatural dark magic within her would not have corrupted her very soul. Evidence of her fondness for her daughter-in-law implies that she wasn’t so far gone as the necromancer, but I suspect she was not far off.”

“Is that why Rayford could manipulate their ages? Because Nora gave him the password after he brought her back from the dead?”

“Probably,” replied Bianca. 

Castle set the glass of purple concoction on the bedside table when Javier pushed his hand away. The drink was half gone. When Bianca didn’t protest the decision, Castle relaxed and adjusted his hold on the six-year-old to allow him to lie more horizontally. 

“Is there any way to remove the curse without tripping the booby trap?” 

“There is nothing I can think of that I would try,” said Bianca. “If we fail again, there will be no bringing the child back from a certain death.”

“So that’s it then? They’re going to have to stay kids?”

“Yes,” said Bianca with a certainty that Castle could not deny. 

“What about their ages? Can we at least put them back to nine and eleven? I’m sure that’ll be easier to swallow than four and six.”

“Returning them to the younger ages removed a dangerous and unstable adjustment to the original spell,” said Bianca. “It would not be ‘putting it back’, but rather causing all of the damage all over again. I don’t think you’d want to put the little one through that.”

“No, of course not,” said Castle. He sighed. He looked down at Javier, re-memorizing the youthful features of the six-year-old’s face. He couldn’t wait until the darker skin was again backlit with energy and life. The child’s paleness was unsettling and gave the writer no confidence that they were out of the woods with respect to Javier’s health. “Where do we go from here?” It was a question better directed at his girlfriend, but she still slept soundly. 

“You start over,” said Bianca. “You go back to the plan you had before Randall wrote the counter spell that might have worked.”

“There was no plan,” said Castle self-deprecatingly. He shook his head and laughed wryly. “I guess it’s a good thing I never had the chance to take all of their baby clothes and car seats to Goodwill.”

Bianca smiled weakly at his attempt to lighten the mood. She patted his arm. “I need to get back,” she said. “Once you feel up to it, you should take the children home. No one is left who should want to bother you.”

“Is Dr. Bellefonte…” 

“Time will tell,” she replied cryptically. She stood stiffly and walked slowly to the door. Before exiting, she turned back to Castle. “Finish off the herbal supplement as soon as possible. When you get him home, keep him on a liquid diet with lots of protein and carbohydrates to build back up his reserves.” Castle nodded his understanding. Bianca slipped from the room, closing the door softly behind herself. 

“You heard her, buddy,” said Castle. “You need to drink more.” He retrieved the glass and held it up to Javier’s mouth. 

“Cas…”

“Shhh,” soothed the writer. “Just drink.” He had to bite his lip to keep the fear out of his expression. The fear that if he looked away, Javier would slip away forever. He thought back to the long hours spent in the bathroom the night before, when Javier had tearfully begged his ‘daddy’ to take away his discomfort. Castle vowed then and there that he would spend the rest of his life doing whatever it took to protect his child from any kind of hurt. 

Half of a dozen swallows later, Javier turned his head to the side and refused to drink any more. Castle returned the glass to the nightstand and contented himself with simply holding the six-year-old. Javier looked up at him, his shadowed chocolate eyes clearer than they’d been yet in the time since Kate had carried him back from the smallest guest room. Castle couldn’t interpret the swirl of emotions in the dark eyes. He wondered how much of his conversation with Bianca the boy had understood through the haze he’d been in since the failed counter spell. 

His scrutiny ended when Javier gave in to his fatigue and let his eyes slide closed. Castle wasn’t quite ready to lay the six-year-old back down, so he remained leaning against the headboard with Javier resting in the cradle of his arms. He resisted the temptation to let himself become overwhelmed by sympathy for his friends and fear for their futures. Giving in to doubts and hopelessness wouldn’t solve anything, so he instead made himself focus on The Plan. The Plan, of course, being non-existent up until that point. 

Parts of it were easy. Javier and Kevin would stay with him. He was, after all, a Ruggedly Handsome Dad, and more than capable of supporting the two orphans. Well, technically they weren’t orphans. They still had biological parents and siblings… Castle swallowed thickly and glanced down to make sure his sudden jolt of nervousness hadn’t disturbed Javier. There would be no more avoiding the boys’ families. The Ryans had already started wondering what had happened to their son and brother. It wouldn’t be long until the Esposito clan likewise started to question the prolonged silence from Javier.

Castle also somehow needed to gain control of Detectives Ryan’s and Esposito’s finances, allowing him to consolidate their assets and set up trust funds so that when the boys did reach adulthood again, they wouldn’t have to completely start over. Similarly, he needed to take over the deeds on their apartments, which would no longer be necessary. It helped that the detectives weren’t actually dead, but it wouldn’t be easy to convince any bank officials or insurance providers that a four- and six-year-old could act on the missing men’s behalves. Castle had a good lawyer. Maybe it was worth bringing the man into the loop about what had happened. 

Kate could deal with the fallout at the Twelfth Precinct. Hopefully Captain Gates had some good ideas of how to handle the guys’ sudden and absolute retirement from the force. She’d gone out of her way to help them create plausible cover stories for the kids, so it didn’t seem like too much of a stretch to think she’d help them again. 

Speaking of Kate and the Twelfth… New York’s star homicide detective let out a low groan of displeasure at waking. She stretched out her arms and yawned. Unwilling to give up sleep completely, she kept her eyes closed and rolled onto her side. Finding Kevin’s warm little body with her blind reaching, she drew the four-year-old in and curled protectively around him. Castle smiled softly as he regarded the pair. His heart pulsed strongly for his soul mate, especially when she let her maternal instincts show. He looked forward to taking care of their boys with her, and making dozens of mini-Castles and Becketts to fill out their family. 

Kate’s sleep was light enough that she was aware of only finding one of her babies. A frown settled in her features and she reached out blindly again, only finding rumpled bedding and cool air. Grudgingly, she popped open one of her hazel eyes and scanned the dark room. It didn’t take her long to locate the missing child in Castle’s arms. 

“Hey,” she said groggily. “Javi okay?” She closed her eyes again and nuzzled Kevin’s tangled dark blonde locks as she waited for a response.

“I think so,” replied Castle quietly. “He was able to drink some of Bianca’s purple concoction a few minutes ago. He’s sleeping now.”

“Good. How long was I out?”

Kevin started to squirm unhappily as her breath tickled the back of his neck. Kate squeezed him gently, silently willing him to hold still and let her have her way. Programmed as he was to follow her commands, the youngest detective subsided. At least Kate lifted her chin so she wasn’t talking directly into the boy’s nape. 

“It’s late,” said Castle. He checked his watch. “You were out for a good two hours.”

“No wonder I feel so gross,” complained the lead detective. “Is anyone else here?”

“Bianca stopped in for a bit,” said Castle. “It sounds like a few of the witches hung around to try to help Randy. What happened after I left?”

“I don’t know,” said Kate. Her voice grew stronger as she became more alert. “Javi was… gone… and then Randy did something that took a lot of magic. It knocked me off of my feet. The next thing I know, Bianca is handing me Javi and shoving us out of the room. I… I didn’t see Randy.”

Castle swallowed against the lump of guilt in his throat. He wasn’t sorry to have Javier back, nor would he undo anything that had led to the child’s revival. He just wished that it wasn’t the doctor who was apparently the one sacrificed to make it happen. The older man, despite being a witch, was starting to grow on the writer. 

“Well, you know Bianca. She’s lost without a thousand secrets to keep her company. She wouldn’t tell me anything about the doctor’s state,” said Castle. In this case, he worried that no news was bad news. “She did say that we should take the kids home. She thinks we’ll be safe from any further witch attacks.”

“I’d love to have another shower and be in my own home,” said Kate absently. She reached up to brush her hair back from her face. 

“We should take them back to my place,” said Castle. “That’s where all of their kiddy stuff is.”

“That’s what I meant,” said Kate, quirking a confused eyebrow at him. Castle bit down his grin and cleared his throat obviously. Hearing her refer to his loft as her home was doing all kinds of wonderful things to his insides. 

“What about becoming big?” asked Kevin. Contrary to popular belief, the tiny detective wasn’t sleeping. “When are we going to try again?”

“I…” Castle had been under the impression that Kevin had correctly inferred that the very worst had happened during Javier’s failed counter-spell. It seemed he was wrong. He was at a loss for words. Just thinking about explaining the near disaster in a way that wouldn’t freak everyone out again, yet still convey how not possible it was to undo the retrogression, was making him nauseous.

“We’re not going to try again,” said Kate firmly. Castle was impressed by her resolve and ability to not run screaming for the hills at the promise of a scary, emotional conversation. But then, she had too much practice at compartmentalizing and doing what needed to be done without getting all sentimental about it. 

Kevin twisted out of her embrace and sat up. Kate followed suit. Her lean frame towered over his, even while sitting down. To his credit, the Irishman showed no signs of intimidation. They all knew Kate was a big softy at heart. Though, sometimes Castle had a hard time seeing it behind her frightening no-nonsense exoskeleton. “You can’t make this choice for us.”

“I didn’t make the choice,” said Kate. “Kevin, Javier _died_ during the counter-spell. He was gone for two whole minutes before Randy managed to bring him back. I saw his spirit leave his body, just like the necromancer’s left his after Bianca killed him. Randy’s spell failed.”

Kate definitely didn’t mince words or sugar coat anything. Castle’s sick feeling intensified as he learned just a little bit more about what had happened in the smaller guest room after he left. Predictably, Kevin’s childlike reaction to this news included tears and professions of denial. “This can’t be it. The doctor witch can fix his spell. He can make it work. I can go first next time, and Javi will be okay.”

“It took everything Randy had to bring Javier back,” said Kate. She maintained her strong, emotionally detached tone of voice like a pro. “ _Every_ thing, Kevin.” 

The child hadn’t been a detective for nearly a decade because he couldn’t piece clues together. “He’s… gone?”

“Probably,” said Kate. Her firm grip on her emotions started to slip. She wiped a solitary tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry, baby boy.”

The four-year-old’s shoulders shook in earnest as he tried to come to terms with almost losing his partner and best friend, probably losing the one person who could end his curse, and being doomed to remain a child for the next decade and a half. Having tentatively accepted his fate after Randy had decided in Vermont to not undo the blond’s curse didn’t seem to be making this any easier for the detective. 

Kate stood from the bed and pulled her hair band from around her wrist so she could tie back her hair in a messy ponytail. Task completed, she held out her hands to her partner. Her new son. “Come here,” she urged softly. Instead of shying away like he had when the curse was new and he handled bad news by shutting everyone out, Kevin reached back. Kate caught him under the arms and settled him on her hip. She paced the width of the room, passing in and out of the large square of blue light under the solitary window, compliments of the moon. Kevin spent his anguish into the graceful curve of her neck. 

Castle eased Javier’s limp body onto the bed beside him. The little guy was so deep in unconsciousness that he hadn’t even flinched at the rather loud conversation between his partners. Castle placed his large hand over the child’s belly just so he could feel Javier inhale and exhale, confirming he was still alive. Momentarily pacified, he retrieved his nearly dead cell phone and called his home phone. 

“Richard!” His mother’s voice, a mixture of relief and irritation at being kept in the dark for so long, was a balm over his tender nerves. “I’ve been worrying all day. What happened? Are they big again?”

Castle laughed wryly to keep from tearing up himself. “No, they’re not,” he said at last. “There were… complications.”

“Oh dear. That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not,” said the writer. “It looks like you’re going to get grandkids two and three after all.”

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” said Martha. Castle was grateful that she didn’t pry for more information right then. “Is there anything can I do?”

“Actually, you can help right now. Part of countering the retrogression included putting them back at six and four, since what Rayford Bellefonte did to them in Vermont was contrary to the original spell. It was after that that everything fell apart. We don’t have anything for the kids at these ages. Can you have a courier bring us clothes for the boys, as well as the car seats?”

“Not a problem,” said Martha without hesitation. “Give them each a kiss for me, would you? I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

Castle ended the call. He sent his mother a text with the address and then slid the phone back into his pocket. Kate and Kevin were still ensconced in their little private world of misery, though now Kate had stopped in front of the window and was looking out over the shadowed yard. Castle stood up and stretched. He cringed when multiple joints in his back popped. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, TXMedic, for beta-reading once again. One of these days, I will learn the difference between "advert" and "avert". ;-)


	4. 67: July 15 - Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the day of the failed counter-spell finally ends...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, _Castle_ belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Sixty-Seven

At this time of night, he figured they had about an hour until the courier showed up. As much as he didn’t feel like it, his manners plagued him to do his part to tidy up the house that Josiah Nichols had been so generous to lend them. He slipped out of the room silently. At the far end of the hall, the door to the smallest guest room was still tightly shut, though he could see light shining around the edges of the door. He stepped into the middle room, only to find that the twin beds were both neatly made up and not a thing was out of place. The small duffel that had contained the boys’ effects was sitting by the door, ready to be simply picked up and tossed into the Mercedes’ trunk. Castle figured he could do that. 

Downstairs, a surprising number of witches milled about. He hesitated on the lowest step, but then decided he wasn’t going to let the Council members bother him. Castle had almost made it to the front door when one of the witches called out to him. He turned slowly, only to come face to face with the owner of the small cottage. “What’s your name again, son?”

“Uh, Richard Castle, sir,” replied the writer. 

“That’s right,” said Mr. Nichols. He snapped his fingers. “I knew it had something to do with castles.”

Castle nodded uncomfortably. “I, uh… Well, thank you for letting us stay at your house. I’m sorry about the mess we made in your front yard.”

“Mess?” The old man chuckled. “You’re clearly not used to spending time with the gifted. It’s all cleaned up, good as new.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Castle. “I was on my way out to start loading up our car.” He gestured vaguely toward the front door. 

“We’d like to have a word with you when you’re done,” said another witch. Castle thought he vaguely remembered him being one of the “useless Council members” as Kate liked to put it. The man was flanked by two other Councilmen, each regarding him with determined expressions. 

“I don’t know how much help I can be,” deflected the writer. 

“It’s simple, really,” said one of the women behind the first Council member. “Now that it’s been proven that the retrogression cannot be undone, and we’ve let you have your fun playing house, it’s time for you to turn the spellbound ones over to the Council.”

Castle’s Stranger Danger alarms were going off loudly inside of him. “There’s no chance of that,” he said incredulously. 

“They’re a part of our world now,” said the third witch. “They don’t belong with ones such as yourself or that bitch detective.” Castle’s trepidation was melted by his anger at the witch’s derogatory reference to Kate. 

“They belong with people who love them and will take care of them,” said Castle. “Not with people who will treat them like slaves or lab rats.” He may not have magic, but he was a good six inches taller than any of the trio who’d dared to even suggest he’d give up his boys without a fight. He put every inch of his advantage to use as he stared down the witches. 

“This isn’t a good time for this discussion,” said Mr. Nichols with an awkward chuckle. 

“There will never be a good time for this discussion,” said Castle. “Sir, I thank you again for your hospitality.” With that, he marched out of the front door. His silver Mercedes was parked at the end of the driveway, thankfully out of the way of the fireball that had once been a pretty sweet GTO. His shoes scraped vengefully against the gravel as he walked towards the car and he jabbed the unlock button on his key fob harder than he really needed to. The locks faithfully disengaged, despite their abuse. 

As he was slamming the hood of his trunk shut with a satisfying thud, he realized that Kate and the kids were currently alone in the house with the greedy witches. They were trapped on the second floor without him. He had to get back inside before someone decided to “borrow without asking” his boys, since borrowing with asking hadn’t worked. At least Kate was armed. If anyone suggested to the detective that she hand over her partners, that someone would surely end up shot. 

Things were better than he expected when Castle entered the second floor guest room again. Kate had managed to calm down and then clean up her youngest partner. Kevin sat morosely in the middle of the bed, keeping a watchful eye on Javier’s sleep while the lead detective shoved their belongings into the second duffel bag. 

“Where’d you go?” Kate asked.

“I was going to see about doing a bit of cleaning before we left, but the place is crawling with ‘concerned’ Council members.” Kate couldn’t see his air quotes while concentrating on packing, but she looked up when she recognized their tone. 

“Do I need to go down there and shoot someone?”

Castle laughed out of genuine amusement and love for this woman whom he knew so well. “Just make sure you’re fully loaded and primed,” he said. He was half-joking and half-serious. He could tell that she wanted to ask what had happened, but stopped herself after glancing at Kevin. They could talk about the Council’s interest in the boys later. 

Kate zipped the duffel shut and ran her fingers through the locks of hair framing her face that had escaped her ponytail. “I think that’s probably everything we brought that I care to take back with us.”

“Martha is having a change of clothes for the boys and the C-A-R S-E-A-T-S couriered up here. We can leave as soon as the stuff arrives.”

“I can still spell, jackhole,” snapped Kevin. The long shadows in the dim room helped him look more menacing than he would have otherwise. Kate gave Castle an equally unimpressed look. The writer grinned sheepishly and Kate merely shook her head before going back to cramming random articles into the stuffed nylon bag. 

“It’s starting to feel claustrophobic in here,” said the lead detective. “I’d rather wait out in the car than in this house.”

Castle agreed. He couldn't wait to get out of the house full of witches. Adopting a humble tone of apology, Castle asked Kevin, “Do you want a ride, squirt?”

“Not from you, I-D-I-O-T.”

“You deserved that,” said Kate with a tired laugh as she pressed the duffel bag into Castle’s arms. She leaned down and easily hefted their four-year-old up again. She kissed Kevin’s rosy cheek. “This is one benefit to being smaller,” she told the boy. “You were too big for me to carry around when you were nine.”

“I’d rather be nine,” the Irishman grumbled. 

Castle shouldered the duffel bag so he’d have both hands free to pick up Javier. He made sure the borrowed blanket was wrapped snugly around the six-year-old. Together, the little family made their way down the stairs, across the short entry vestibule, and out onto the front porch. As they passed the loitering witches, Kate made sure to glare at each of them in turn and tighten her hold possessively around her partner. 

It was easier to breathe out in the muggy July air. Thanks to the humidity, the heat hung around well after the sun had gone down, but it wouldn’t be long until the coolness of the night overcame it. They stowed the duffel in the trunk with its mate and Castle carefully laid Javier across the back seat. The Hispanic boy spent a few seconds shifting to find a comfortable position on the lumpy leather seats and Castle momentarily felt guilty about moving him from a perfectly acceptable bed to a cramped car. The feeling passed when Javier settled into a contented curl and slept soundly.

Kevin wandered across the drive to plop down in the soft grass of the front yard. Castle kept a close eye on him from where he leaned against the side of the car, next to the open rear passenger door. The little guy was adorable in his pajamas that were multiple sizes too big, with his hair sticking out in every direction, and his mouth set in a cute pout. The detective, or rather ex-detective now, focused all of his anger and frustration on pulling up slender blades of grass and shredding them into narrow strips. After just a few minutes, he had quite the pile of murdered vegetation going. 

Kate sat sideways in the front passenger seat, her door also hanging wide open, and tried to get a hold of various people that apparently had such busy social lives that they were out and about on a Monday night. She finished her third voicemail and pocketed her phone with an irritated growl. “I always answer my phone when people call me,” she groused. 

“I know,” said Castle. “It’s one of your most annoying habits.” He had no shortage of memories of her phone ringing and interrupting some of their most pleasurable encounters. Kate halfheartedly flipped him the bird and shook her head. Castle grinned and glanced over at the preschooler with his mountain of dead grass. “Hey…” he said when a thought struck him. “Doesn’t Kevin have a July birthday?” Half of the month was gone already and he worried suddenly that they’d completely missed the occasion thanks to the curse.

“The 27th,” confirmed Kate distractedly. 

“That’s in less than two weeks,” said the writer. “And Javier’s is October…”

“23rd.”

“Oh goody, a Halloween birthday. I love Halloween.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I doubt either of them is going to willingly play along with your ideas for dress-up.”

“Spoilsport,” grumbled Castle. He didn’t let it get him down. He had three months to wear on the pair. That was still much later than their most pressing engagement. He couldn’t wait to plan a birthday bash that his new son would never forget. Kevin had no idea yet how lucky he was to have such a prime RHD. “We need to start planning. It’s not every day a little boy turns five.”

“Castle.” Kate’s tone was low with warning. “First of all, I’m sure that every day, somewhere in the world a little boy turns five. Second, I very much think that Kevin will not at all be in the mood to celebrate his thirty-fifth birthday when he’s in the body of a kid. Third, if you humiliate either one of them, I will personally remove your ability to procreate such that no unfortunate child of mine has to endure you as their RHD.”

“I thought you liked my ability to procreate,” pouted the writer. 

“I wasn’t talking about that,” said Kate. “I would never want anything bad to happen to happy Mr. Castle Jr. We’ll just have to take more invasive measures.”

“Mr. Castle Jr. won’t be very happy if you cut off his millions of merry friends.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this,” said Kate with a giggle. “Stop being ridiculous.”

Castle liked it that Kate was laughing and letting off a little steam. Still, for his own sake, he did change the subject. “I was thinking about The Plan while you three were sleeping. Capital T, capital P.”

“The plan?”

“The _P_ lan, Kate. The one where we get Detectives Ryan’s and Esposito’s affairs in order since they’re not coming back for at least fourteen to sixteen years.”

“I’d rather talk about Castle Jr. and his merry friends,” said Kate darkly. 

“This is me, stepping up and being a responsible father,” said the writer. “I think it will make things a little easier if we let my lawyer in on the secret. He can help us put together the paperwork to transfer power of attorney over to me.”

“I’m really grateful that you’re here to help me deal with all of this,” said Kate. “But can we please not talk about it right now?”

“Okay,” he said soothingly. 

The end of the block was lit up with red and blue flashing lights as an unmarked police car cruised down the residential road. Castle worried that one of the neighbors had decided to very belatedly call the cops on them. His worry multiplied when the black Crown Vic pulled into the drive behind the Mercedes and the combination of strobe lights and headlights blinded Castle. He panicked as he lost sight of his younger boy. By the time he had finished crossing the gravel drive and had scooped up the cursed detective, the police car’s engine cut out, though all of the lights remained on. All four doors opened and loved ones poured out of it as if from a clown car. Well, loved ones and Demming. Though, Castle supposed the robbery detective did have his uses. 

“Uh, Mother?” he asked as the actress walked up to him. 

“I called Captain Gates to let her know what happened,” said Martha. “She insisted that we’d get here faster if we took a cruiser.”

“And that somehow meant bringing the cavalry?”

“Damn straight it did,” said Lanie, walking around the car from the opposite side. She was still in her work scrubs. She must have dropped everything when she heard about the failed spell and the trip up to Riverside. “Gimme.”

Castle was helpless to stop her from stealing Kevin and walking a few steps away with her prize. All of Kate’s hard work at calming down her partner was undone as Lanie prompted her “little sugar pie” to “tell Mama all about it.” 

“Mr. Castle, what happened?” asked Captain Gates. She pushed her glasses up so she could stare at the writer unwaveringly. 

“Nora Bellefonte had built in a failsafe to her spell so that if anyone but her tried to undo it, it would cause the boys’ hearts to stop,” explained Castle quickly. Both older women gasped in alarm. Martha rubbed his arm soothingly. 

“How did you figure that out?” asked Gates. 

Castle checked to make sure that Lanie was sufficiently distracted by Kevin sobbing into her ear. “We figured it out when Javier’s heart stopped.”

“ _No_ ,” breathed out the captain. She glanced around them quickly, just now realizing she’d only seen one of her cursed detectives since arriving. Martha’s fingers pressed painfully into his flesh through his shirtsleeve. 

“Dr. Bellefonte brought him back,” Castle hurried to assure them. “At great personal expense. He’s over in the car with Kate.” He motioned to where Demming was catching up with his old fling. Predictably, the captain hurried over to check on the six-year-old for herself. Martha loosened her grip on her son, but still maintained a contact that was comforting to them both. 

“Richard, the suitcase is in the trunk of Detective Demming’s car. The car seats as well.”

“Thank you.” Together, they walked over to the car and signaled to the robbery detective to pop the trunk. He obliged. Castle opened the suitcase right there, looking for something more appropriate than a blanket for Javier to wear back into the city. Not that the comatose kid would know any better. His heart constricted momentarily as he lifted the long-sleeve NYU tee from the pile of neatly folded clothes. 

“I found an outfit for you and Katherine, too,” said Martha. “Just in case.”

“You’re wise beyond your years, Mother.” He gave her a small smile. He helped her pull the suitcase out of the trunk once he’d gotten out of it what he wanted for his older boy. Martha pulled it over to hand off to Kate. The homicide detective looked equally surprised and touched that Martha had thought of them as well. She corralled her best friend into joining her inside so both she and Kevin could change. 

“Excuse me,” said Castle, gently nudging Captain Gates out of the way so he could slide into the backseat of his car. The bright lights had drawn Javier out of his sleep, though the poor little thing barely had the strength to do more than lie there and look miserable. Castle quickly and skillfully stripped Javier out of his eleven-year-old's clothes, which the cursed detective was still wearing within his blanket cocoon. A minute later, the six-year-old was promoting his alma mater of days past, paired with comfortable black track pants and thick fleece slipper socks. 

The shrunken detective didn’t want to be lifted from the car so the car seats could be installed. “Castle,” he whimpered, clinging to the writer as tightly as he could while the older man set to pacing up and down the driveway.

“Shh. You’re okay,” soothed the writer. He rubbed Javier’s back in large, slow circles. “You want some more purple smoothie?” He really needed to ask Bianca if her signature concoction had a name. 

“Nng.” 

“It’ll make you feel better,” said the writer. Javier let his silence speak volumes. 

A muted thud from the direction of the Mercedes drew Castle's attention. “Son of a…” Demming’s barely censored frustration at Kevin’s five-point car seat caused Castle to crack a wide grin. _Take that, ex-boyfriend_ , the writer thought. _Can’t even defeat a simple old car seat. You’d never be an RHD._

“Let me help,” said Captain Gates. The older woman showed surprising acuity at strapping in the child safety restraint, putting the detective to shame. 

“Captain Gates, I never would have pegged you as a connoisseur of car seats.”

“I may not have children of my own, but I come from a very large extended family,” the captain rejoined. “Where’s the other one?”

Demming handed her the much simpler booster. Captain Gates had it strapped in place in no time. Castle gently set the six-year-old in his booster. He wadded up the discarded older kid clothes to act as a substitute pillow. Thankfully, Javier was already mostly asleep again. “Can you kill the lights?” the writer asked after noticing the child’s face scrunching up subconsciously when the blue and red flashed over his eyes. 

“Sure.” 

“You should go change, too, Mr. Castle,” said Captain Gates. “I’ll watch him.” She perched on the very edge of the leather seat and stroked the back of her index finger over Javier’s smooth, pale cheek. Just the same, Castle waited until Kate and Lanie returned before taking his turn to put on fresh clothes. 

_to be continued…_


	5. 68: July 16 - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett struggles to adjust to the changes at the Twelfth...

### Chapter Sixty-Eight

Castle woke up the next morning with a painful stitch in his side. It wasn’t the first time he’d been pulled from sleep in the last six hours. He lifted his head enough to be able see his tormentor over the lump that now separated them. He’d been sympathetic at first to the nightmares that had plagued the permanently retrogressed homicide detective. His sympathy had run out after the third time he’d been jolted awake by a knee to his kidney. He’d gladly admitted - temporarily, mind you - that both kids were “Mommy’s boys” so Kate would keep Kevin on her side of the bed. Now the four-year-old lay perfectly still as he shared Kate’s pillow, the latter of whom looked like she’d slept peacefully. 

Out of concern for Javier’s sub-par health, the lovers had decided to keep the six-year-old with them. It wasn’t a surprise that Kevin hadn’t wanted to be left alone in the guest room, so the writer had magnanimously allowed the younger boy to sleep with them, too. 

Oh well. A couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep had helped the writer find forgiveness for the Irish boy. He wondered if nightmares had bothered the boys so much before the failed counter-spell. He didn’t doubt that Kevin had dreamed about losing his partner forever. 

Castle slid out of bed and stretched cautiously so he wouldn’t pull too much on his sore back. He ambled out into the main space of his loft, searching for a glass of water. While he was in his fridge, he pulled out the balance of Bianca’s purple concoction. They’d gotten Javier to drink a little more when they’d returned home the night before, but it had been much less than the older man would have liked. Castle hoped the older boy wasn’t planning to adopt Kevin’s less-than-stellar diet. 

He carried both the smoothie and his water into the master bathroom where he retrieved a bottle of Advil and downed two tablets. Another censored stretch helped him work out another kink. He rubbed his hands over his scraggly face before venturing back into the bedroom. 

Castle set both glasses on the nightstand. He uncovered Javier carefully. Hopefully it wasn’t his imagination and Javier really did look a little better. At least he was breathing easily and his expression was free of any distress. Given all of that, he was still too pale. “Hey, buddy,” whispered the writer. He nudged Javier until the little boy responded grumpily. “Wake up for me, son.”

“Castle?”

“The one and only.” Castle lifted the younger male off of the mattress so he could position Javier in a half-seated, half-slouched position. He pressed the cool rim of the glass against the kid’s chapped lips. “Good boy,” he said when Javier settled in to drink. The boy's little hands came up to hold the glass steady, though Castle’s grip did most of the work. When Javier had to break to breathe, Castle asked him, “Feeling a little better?”

“Mm mm,” Javier replied, non-committal. Favoring getting nutrients into the cursed detective over getting words out of him, Castle contented himself with making sure the Hispanic boy swallowed every drop he could stomach. Once Javier was finished, the writer let him lie down again. It wasn’t long before the kid was once more sleeping. 

This time when Castle looked over to check on the other half of their family, a pair of beautiful hazel eyes watched him fondly. “Good morning, handsome,” said Kate in a voice still heavy with sleep. “Sleep better?”

“I got in a couple of uninterrupted hours,” he answered wryly. “And you?”

“Like a baby,” she said cheekily. She sat up and stretched languidly. “How about some coffee? My treat.”

“Oh, you mean when you brew the coffee beans that I bought and I meticulously ground?”

“Exactly.” Kate laughed. She slipped out of the bed and padded across the room toward the door. While she was busy pressing the coffee, he decided to brush the morning out of his mouth. He’d make sure to rinse extra well so the minty flavor didn’t ruin the coffee. 

After emerging from the bathroom, he checked once more on the still slumbering boys. Leaving them to continue sleeping, he followed in Kate’s footsteps. When he reached the kitchen, he found that Kate wasn’t alone. His two favorite redheads had joined the detective. “Good morning, darling,” said Martha. She handed him a steaming mug of joe. 

“Morning.” He exchanged kisses on the cheek with her before holding out one arm to his daughter. “What are you doing home, pumpkin?”

“Grams let me know what happened,” said Alexis. She glanced towards the office and the master bedroom beyond. “Did Javier really…” She looked up at him, her eyes expressing the word she wasn’t willing to say out loud. 

“Briefly. But he’s already starting to look better.” Castle gave her an encouraging smile. “So, how’s it feel to suddenly be a big sister?”

“I don’t know that it’s necessarily sudden,” said Alexis. “But I think it’ll be fun. It comes with much less responsibility than trying to keep you in line.”

“Cute,” said Castle. He made a face at Kate, who was smirking knowingly at him from behind Alexis. 

“How are the guys handling this?” asked Alexis. 

“Honestly, I’m not sure it’s really sunk in yet for them,” said Castle. “Considering all of the tossing and turning he was doing last night, I think this is all just a big nightmare for Kevin. I have no idea how aware of what’s going on Javier is.”

“Well, I should start getting ready for work,” said Kate abruptly. She set her empty mug on the counter and smiled briefly at her companions. Castle didn’t miss how the smile didn’t reach her eyes. 

“What are you going to tell everyone about Ryan and Esposito?”

“I don’t know,” she said. Her earlier cheer was replaced by a biting tone, which seemed to surprise even her. “I’m sorry,” she said, running her hand through her hair. “I don’t mean to… just…” Kate shook her head and simply walked away. Castle watched her until she disappeared into his office. Her drastic change in attitude left Castle reeling in confusion. 

“What the…?” Alexis frowned deeply.

“This isn’t just an extreme change for the boys,” said Martha. She took Alexis’ hand. “Katherine lost both of her partners. From what I’ve heard, a cop’s partner is akin to family.”

“You’re right, as always,” said Castle. “It’s just not like her to avoid difficult situations. She never shies away from anything.”

“Confronting a suspected killer or chasing down a corrupt politician is not the same as going to work every day and seeing the empty desks where your dear friends used to sit.” 

Castle sighed. He liked fun and games. This was none of the above.

xXx

Beckett was in the master bedroom’s closet, sorting through the assortment of her clothes that had slowly migrated from her apartment to Castle’s loft. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the rarely worn suits that masked the hidden safe. Within were the matching badges and side arms that they’d recovered in the Vermont shack. She knew in her head that she should take them with her to the precinct. She should turn them over to her captain. In turn, Captain Gates should forward them on to 1PP, where they could be reassigned to new fresh-faced detectives, hand-picked from Organized Crime and Narcotics.

In her gut, she couldn’t stomach the thought of starting the process to erase her partners from the NYPD. 

The day before, when she’d begged Kevin to reconsider going through the change, she’d thought that knowing he was safe would make it bearable to lose him as part of her team at work. Sure, he’d be in a different form, but he was still _Ryan_. Having Esposito back would make the loss easier to bear because she wouldn’t be completely alone. 

Because this time when she walked through the doors of the Twelfth Precinct, there would be no enduring hope that they’d find a cure for the curse and Ryan and Esposito would return in just a day or two. She would be completely alone. 

Beckett mentally reminded herself that she was good at swallowing her hurt and soldiering on. She turned away from the safe, grabbed a blouse blindly off the rack, and pulled it over her head. She exited the small room after a deep breath. Beckett hadn’t heard any movement from the bedroom while she was changing, so it startled her when she saw Kevin sitting up, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. 

Her composure flickered. “Hey, baby,” she said, forcing herself to sound cool and collected. “How are you feeling?”

“Headache,” he replied faintly. Beckett brushed the back of her hand over his forehead and was glad to find him cool to the touch. It was probably all of the emotions from the day before that were doing a number on his head. 

“You’ll fit right in with Castle and his sore back,” teased Beckett. Kevin didn’t look very repentant for the role he’d played in the writer’s misery. 

“Where are you going?”

“To the precinct,” said Beckett. “Serafina’s murder isn’t going to solve itself.” She couldn’t resist carding her fingers through his silky hair. “But I don’t plan on dawdling at all. I’ll be home before you know it.”

“I don’t want you to go,” he pouted. 

“You can’t tell me things like that,” said Beckett, barely managing to keep a tremble out of her voice. “I’m having a hard enough time forcing myself to go as it is.” She was going to be late if she didn’t start making her way toward the front door. However, she’d gain a few more minutes with her cursed partner if she guided him out to the kitchen. It was probably time for his medication and a healthy breakfast, anyway. “Come on, let’s see if Castle has anything that you’ll even pretend to try to eat this morning.”

Kevin let Beckett lift him off of the bed and set him on his feet next to it. She took his little hand and set a slow pace out of the bedroom. From the kitchen island, all eyes turned to stare at them. Instead of being friendly and greeting Martha and Alexis, the four-year-old shied away, hiding behind Beckett. The detective twisted around to look down at him curiously. “What’s the matter?” Kevin gave her a look that clearly said, “Everything.” 

“Are you afraid of me?” asked Castle teasingly. He walked around to the side of his girlfriend and reached down for the cursed boy. Kevin proved that he wasn’t by letting the writer pick him up. 

“I’m not afraid of anyone,” Kevin mumbled. 

“I wouldn’t blame you if you were,” joked the writer. “Sometimes I’m terrified of my mother first thing in the morning, too.”

“Richard!” Martha huffed in fond exasperation. “Things are different this morning. Two days ago you had hope that their conditions were only temporary. That’s all gone now.”

At the reminder of his fate, Kevin seemed to shrink in on himself even more. Castle adjusted his hold so he was supporting Kevin with one arm, freeing up his other hand so he could pat the younger male’s back soothingly. Beckett could tell that her lover had let go of all of his irritation at being hit and kicked all night as Kevin suffered through a series of nightmares. She swallowed painfully and willed her eyes to stop watering. It was time to go. 

“I’ll call you later,” Beckett promised Castle. She accepted a chaste kiss from him. After bidding Martha, Alexis, and Kevin good-bye, she finally made it to the relative privacy of the hall. She leaned against the wall for a second as she sought her iron-clad control over her emotions. Brave mask in place, she pushed away from the wall and strode confidently toward the elevator.

xXx

Beckett didn’t even make it to her desk before Captain Gates called her into the skipper’s private office. The detective took her time closing the door while Gates took a seat behind her desk. Beckett knew what Gates wanted to talk about, and she wasn’t any more ready to have this conversation with her captain than she was with her boyfriend. She sat down hesitantly.

“Did everything go all right last night?” asked Captain Gates. Beckett, though she knew that Gates was no less compassionate than any other good-hearted person, was still sometimes taken aback when the older woman expressed genuine concern and tenderness to the officers under her command. This was one of those times. 

Beckett was able to hide her reaction via the action of tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “We all pretty much went straight to bed,” she said. Demming had followed Castle back to the loft so he could drop off Martha. It had taken some smooth talking, but the exhausted lovers had managed to dissuade Lanie and Captain Gates from coming upstairs to make sure everyone settled in without trouble. Beckett was telling the truth - in less than thirty minutes after walking through the front door, they’d all crashed in the master bedroom. 

“Is Javier well?”

“He’s hanging in there, I think. He’s been asleep practically the whole time since the counter-spell failed.”

“You should have Mr. Castle take them both to a pediatrician for full checkups,” said Gates. Beckett halfheartedly agreed. She’d rather just have Bianca or Randy check on her partners. That is, if Randy was still with them. Gates continued to speak, not seeming to notice Beckett's sharp inhale at the thought of Randy’s fate. “How do you want to handle Detectives Ryan’s and Esposito’s abrupt departure from the NYPD?”

“I don’t want to handle it,” Beckett admitted in a clipped tone. 

Captain Gates must have understood Beckett’s reticence and decided to let the brief insubordination slide. “Well, I was thinking about it last night,” said the older woman. “The original story was that they were poisoned by Nora Bellefonte when they visited her home to interview her during the Valduerez investigation. Dr. Parish mentioned that some toxins are capable of severely and permanently disabling the victim. I will make the announcement that this is the case for Detectives Ryan and Esposito. Since they are no longer capable of performing their duties, they were forced to resign from the NYPD.”

“That’s better than saying they died,” said Beckett. She was grateful to Captain Gates for stepping up to deal with this disaster.

“It may still come to that,” said Gates honestly. “This will give us a little breathing room, and a viable lead-in if we do have to go so far as to claiming they passed.”

“What about getting their disability pay?” asked Beckett. Having a real source of income, even if it was only a percentage of what they were earning before the curse, should help ease the guilt her partners felt at living off of Castle’s generosity. 

“I’ll make it happen,” promised Gates. “Do you have their issued equipment?”

“I forgot it at the loft,” fibbed Beckett. 

“No problem. Try to remember to bring it all in sooner than later.” Beckett nodded unhappily. “Now, what about you, Detective? How are you holding up?”

Beckett wanted to lie and say everything was just peachy. But Gates would be able to see right through her, so denying the obvious didn’t seem worthwhile. “Not well,” she said. “I… I keep thinking that if just one of them were able to come back, it wouldn’t be so bad. We already kind of knew that things didn’t look good for Kevin after the way he reacted to Bellefonte’s magic in Vermont. I was so _sure_ that Javier would be okay, though. I thought that even though it feels like the world has been turned up on its head, I could still count on the fact that my team always comes out on top. No matter how unsolvable the case… no matter how deep in danger we’ve gotten… we’ve always won. We’ve solved crimes that stymied the FBI, the CIA, and the military. We’ve proven the unjustly accused to be innocent and proven the untouchables to be guilty. We’ve outsmarted serial killers, mob bosses, and so many others. And this… _this_ is the case that we fail and I lose not one, but both of my partners.”

Captain Gates held out her small box of tissues so Beckett could take one. “It feels like you’ve failed,” said the older woman. “And it feels like you’ve lost. But you can still bring Valduerez’s murderer to justice, and you still have Ryan and Esposito. If I were so inclined, I’d bet that before too long, you’ll be more resistant to the idea of returning them to their true ages than keeping them as your children.”

“No matter how Castle or I feel about it, Ryan and Esposito are completely opposed to the idea of staying small.”

“Well, that’s the crux of the matter,” said Gates. “They’re going to have to make the best of a less than ideal situation.”

“You’re right, sir,” said Beckett. In a few seconds, she was going to need the whole box of Kleenex. “I should get back to work.” She stood up briskly. 

“You’re not alone in this, Detective,” said Gates in parting. “You can always talk to me.”

“Thank you.” Beckett gave her a genuine, albeit watery, smile. Beckett let herself out of the cozy office. She had to pass Ryan’s and Esposito’s desks to get to hers. She paused at the space between them. Both desks were tidy, though Ryan’s had a few more stacks of files. Esposito was much better about putting back the folders when he was finished with them. 

Beckett slowly sat down in Esposito’s chair. She pushed herself back a few inches, until she heard the barely audible squeak that was the bane of her partner’s adult existence. It brought a minuscule smile to her face. No matter how many times the Hispanic detective tried to steal his Irish partner’s seat, he somehow always ended up with his own again. 

She picked up the signed baseball that was proudly displayed on the veteran’s desk. Esposito would yell at anyone who dared to touch his prized possession. In a moment of weakness and immaturity a few years ago, she’d hidden the baseball in her own desk and done everything she could to shift the blame to Ryan. Unfortunately, Esposito knew both of his partners too well to be tricked for long. And then they’d teamed up against her for revenge. It wasn’t pretty. 

Beckett's daydream was interrupted by one of the other homicide detectives. “Is everything all right?” asked Detective Holt. “Is there any news yet on when Detective Esposito and Detective Ryan will be back?”

“It doesn’t look good,” said Beckett. “I don’t think they’re coming back.”

“Oh no! What happened?”

“Captain Gates is going to make an announcement later,” replied Beckett, deflecting like a pro. “In the meantime, why don’t you fill me in on any progress made on the Valduerez case.” She could definitely use the distraction. 

“Of course,” said Holt. Beckett felt a little guilty about pushing the younger woman to work when she was clearly upset about the news Beckett had just given her. Even so, it would do them both some good to get their minds off of it. Detective Holt launched into a detailed but frustratingly short narrative about the strides made toward tracking down the person who’d actually shot Serafina Valduerez. 

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to TXMedic for beta-reading. 
> 
> I greatly appreciate every review that I receive. Please let me know what you think, especially if you have ideas of ways I can improve. I cherish all my reviews. I write for fun but I always want to improve, so constructive criticism is always welcome. All mistakes are my own.


	6. 69: July 16 - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Castle and Beckett make some decisions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, _Castle_ belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Sixty-Nine

The rest of the morning dragged by excruciatingly slowly. Even wading through the seemingly endless unread emails and aging voicemails didn’t help the time go more quickly. When her eyes started to cross, she pulled out her phone and hit Castle’s speed dial. 

“Hello, beautiful,” greeted her boyfriend after the third ring. “You call to fish for theories about the mysterious witchy killer?”

“No,” said Beckett with a short laugh. “I just called to hear your voice.”

“Oh good, ‘cause I didn’t have any theories, plausible or no. But I can talk. I excel at that.”

“You sure do,” said Beckett. She hid her grin behind her hand. “It’s so quiet up here without you chatting off my ear.”

“Then you’re probably being boring and getting work done,” said Castle. 

“I don’t know about that. I can’t seem to find that one clue or lead that will break this case wide open,” she said. She ignored the fact that this was usually about the time that either Esposito or Ryan butted in with just that clue or lead to clinch their case.

“You’ll get there, love,” Castle assured her. “Want me to come up there? My mother and Alexis are still here and both of the boys are napping. Well, technically Kevin is the only one napping. Can it be considered a nap when you haven’t actually gotten up for the day yet?”

“Uh huh,” replied Beckett distractedly. She watched the muted television hanging over the door to the conference room. She couldn’t hear what the pretty young reporter was saying, but the landscape behind her was familiar. The media had finally found out what had happened up in Riverside. Fortunately, the only photos they flashed were of Josiah Nichols. 

“Kate?”

“I’m sorry,” Beckett said, looking sharply away from the television. “Do you want to meet me for lunch?”

“Of course,” the writer agreed readily. “It’s nearly noon now. Will you be ready to go in fifteen?”

“Yes,” Beckett confirmed. She hung up with her boyfriend so he could get ready to join her. She rubbed her temples, trying to ease the ache from a phantom headache. Her head didn’t actually hurt, but it seemed like it should by now. 

The feeling of wrongness that had plagued her all morning pulsed strongly. She decided to wait downstairs for Castle, where hopefully the fresh air and change of scenery would banish the feeling. Of course, fresh air was maybe optimistic in the heart of America's most famous metropolis, but at least it would be moving. 

The sun felt good on her face and the stifling July air wrapped around her like a blanket. Beckett shed her fashionable dress coat in favor of her silky, crop-sleeved blouse. The detective chose to be thankful for small blessings, like the beautiful weather. She’d surely feel like giving up completely if it were cold and rainy. 

It took Castle a second to spot her seated on the edge of the stone planter lining the face of the Twelfth Precinct. It didn’t actually contain any plants, but it made for a good place to rest one’s feet. The writer’s face broke out into a wide smile when he saw her. “No wonder you’re not making any progress on your cases when you’re out here sunning yourself,” he teased gently. 

“I probably would have been more productive by sitting out here,” rejoined Kate. “I missed you this morning.” She found her feet and smiled softly at her lover. 

“Me too,” agreed Castle, adopting her mellow tone. Without asking for permission, he leaned in to kiss her. Beckett arched up into him. She thought she could melt into his warmth, which put even the summer sun to shame. Castle wrapped his arm around her back to hold her close and brought his other hand up to cup the back of her head. When he had to finally pull away, he was breathing heavily. Beckett was in a similar state. “I’ve missed this, too,” he whispered. 

“No babies in our bed tonight,” Beckett said. The grin she directed his way felt real this time. 

“Absolutely.”

Since they were standing on the sidewalk in front of the place where Beckett worked, it seemed prudent to take a step back and maintain some degree of modesty. That didn’t stop Beckett from slipping her hand into Rick’s and walking closely to him as they navigated the busy sidewalk to their favorite café. 

The couple claimed a small table in the fenced off sidewalk seating area. The large, colorful umbrella offered enough shade to make the outdoors bearable for their meal. Beckett had the café’s menu memorized by now, but she still skimmed over it. Despite her attention to the large variety of available meals, Castle ordered for both of them when the waitress arrived. Sometimes it bothered her when he did that, but today she was grateful for the sense of normality. “What are your plans for the afternoon?” asked Beckett once the waitress had departed. 

“I’d love to hang around with you,” he said. “There’s too much to be done, unfortunately.” She could tell by the look in his face that he was trying to skirt around the topic that had upset her so much that morning. 

“Unfortunately,” she echoed. “Honestly, I’d rather be dealing with that. The precinct feels different now. It’s so… quiet without you and the guys there.”

“I can imagine,” said Castle. He reached across the table and took her hand. She squeezed his fingers gratefully. 

“Let’s make some decisions,” Beckett said. Wallowing in her losses was going to depress her. She needed to take control of her new life and responsibilities before she drowned in her grief. A sense of accomplishment, no matter how small, always helped her feel motivated to take on the least favorable of tasks. 

“Are you sure?” asked Castle. 

“Yes,” said Beckett. “Captain Gates is planning to make an announcement to the precinct today regarding the guys’ resignation from the force. She thinks she has a good explanation for why they can’t ever come back to work.”

“Okay. I’m glad she’s taking care of that.” Castle clasped her captured hand in both of his. “First order of business then: our living arrangements have been officially unofficial since the curse happened. I’d love to make them officially official. Will you move in with me, Kate?”

“You’re right, it feels like I already have,” said Beckett. She smiled warmly at him. “Yes, Rick. But I’m not giving up my apartment in Tribeca. I’m holding on to that place forever.” 

“I don’t blame you,” said Castle. “If it weren’t so lacking in bedrooms, and if the floors didn’t creak so terribly, it might be a contender for primary residence.”

“Hardly,” argued Beckett. “We all think of your loft as home. My apartment is simply someplace I can go when I need some time to find myself again. The squeaky floors are part of its charm.”

“I don't know about any charm, but at least it's a place to store all of your coats and shoes,” teased Castle. Beckett laughed and then stuck out her tongue at him. 

“I love all of my shoes. They’re coming with me.”

Castle wisely changed the subject. He knew how important Beckett’s footwear was to her. “Speaking of a lack of bedrooms - there are now six people living at the loft, and only four bedrooms.” 

“I suppose you could stay with me in the master bedroom,” said Beckett. 

“You’re so generous,” replied Castle dryly. He grew serious again. “Technically Alexis does live in the dorms at Columbia now--”

“No,” said Beckett firmly. “The loft is Alexis’ home and we’re not annexing her bedroom.” She held Castle’s gaze to reinforce her words. She could tell that the writer was relieved at her response. Of course he wouldn’t want to push his daughter out, even if it were to make room for his newly adopted sons. “The same is true for Martha,” continued the detective. “The boys will be fine sharing a room. That is, as long as you’re okay with giving up your guest room.”

“That I can deal with,” said Castle. “I might be an easy sell on asking my mother to find her own place, too.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Beckett with a brief laugh. She knew her boyfriend was joking. He treasured his mother, and the older woman had proven her wisdom and compassion on many occasions. “Besides, we’ll probably need Martha’s help. What do we know about raising little kids?”

“Now you’re being silly,” said Castle. “Look at how the child that my mother raised turned out, and look at how my daughter ended up.” He puffed out his chest proudly. 

“I don’t think your mother’s son is so bad,” said Beckett. She took a sip of her water to hide her smirk. Yes, Castle could be frustrating and immature and… argh! sometimes. But he was also the one making her smile in the midst of all of her fear and uncertainty.

Castle had to drop her hand when their food arrived. Famished, they both dug in. It was quiet at their table for a few minutes as they took the edge off of their hunger. Eventually, Castle restarted their conversation. “Sharing the guest room is one thing. Sharing the bed is another. We need to switch out the furniture in there, to give the guys some semblance of personal space.”

“True,” said Beckett. “You can keep your guest room bedroom set at my place. See, it’s coming in handy already.”

“I’m not that attached to it,” said Castle. “I’d rather just sell it. Do you want to come furniture shopping or do you trust me to pick out something?”

“Take with you whoever helped you decorate the rest of your place,” said Beckett. 

“I can do that,” said the writer. “My interior decorator has been bothering me about the cottage, especially since it suffered all that damage at Bellefonte’s hands. She’d love to have a project at the loft.”

“You really need to stop calling that house a cottage,” said Beckett with a laugh. “You’re selling yourself short.”

Castle just shook his head. “Now, here’s the question of the hour: to sell or not to sell the guys’ places.”

“Sell,” said Becket quickly, before her heart silenced her head. Unlike her Tribeca apartment, the guys’ places weren’t really anything special. Nor were they rent-controlled, or located in an up-and-coming part of the city. There was no point to holding on to the empty spaces for twelve to fourteen years and losing all of that money in rent. When Castle had asked her that same question last week, she’d nearly panicked at the idea of finalizing Kevin’s fate by unloading his home. Now, she had to be rational or they’d never get anything done. 

“Okay,” said Castle. “I’ll call my realtor in the morning.” 

“You mentioned bringing your lawyer in on the secret,” said Beckett. “Can we trust him?”

“I trust him,” said Castle. “He’s one of the few people I can say that about. Don’t you remember how he helped me when 3XK tried to frame me for murder?”

That was a case Beckett did her best to never think about. “I do,” she said. “Maybe we should get the guys’ blessing, first,” she said. 

“We’ll ask them,” agreed Castle. “I’m sure they’ll hate the idea of selling their apartments, but I’m planning to start trust funds for both of them. We’ll put the money from the sale of their places, and whatever life insurance payouts they receive, into those funds so it’s there for them when they’re adults again.”

“That’s a good idea.” Beckett popped the last of her sandwich into her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. After swallowing, she said, “Gates said she’d get them disability pay and whatever else she can, since they were cursed in direct relation to a work case.”

“What do you think are the chances of getting Captain Gates to deal with the Ryans and the Espositos for us?” Castle meant for it to sound joking, but the reminder of the boys’ families stole Beckett’s breath away. She’d been the one to break the terrible news of a loved one’s death to a grieving family hundreds of times, and it never got any easier. It was also never harder than it had been to hear that her own mother had been brutally killed in an alley. She suspected that telling her partners’ parents what had happened was going to fall somewhere in between. 

Castle’s phone started ringing. He dutifully pulled it out and frowned at the caller ID. “Yes, Mother?” His frown deepened as the older woman explained the reason for her call. “Okay, we’re just finishing lunch. I’ll be back in a bit.” He ended the call and sighed. “Nap time is over. The kids are not happy that neither of us are there.”

“You should go, then,” said Beckett. Her mood sunk quickly, almost back down to pre-lunch levels. She didn’t want to go back to the precinct by herself. She would, though. Kate Beckett did not back down from a challenge. If she kept repeating that to herself, hopefully she’d start to believe it.

xXx

“Mother, I’m home!” Castle strode toward his kitchen, looking for Martha. He glanced casually into the living room as he passed and didn’t see any sign of his new housemates.

Martha was in the process of dicing some fruit and mixing the various items into a large bowl. Castle snuck a chunk of strawberry and popped it into his mouth. The sweet tartness hooked him immediately and he went for another piece. “Leave some of it for dinner,” chided the acting coach. “How was lunch with Katherine?”

“Good,” replied Castle. “You were right about Beckett struggling to adjust to losing half of her team. I’ve never seen her so distracted and unable to focus on a case.”

“It will get easier,” said Martha. “Hand me that apple, would you?”

Castle pushed the requested fruit to within her reach. “Where’d the kids go? You said they were awake.”

“They’re in your room still,” said Martha. “I tried to get Kevin to eat something for lunch, but he wasn’t interested in anything I had.”

“Of course not,” groused the writer. “I’ll go check on them.” He stole one last strawberry half out of the fruit salad and then pushed away from the counter. He strained his ears to hear any sounds from his bedroom as he passed through his office, but all was quiet. In the large room, he easily located the pair of cursed detectives in the middle of the bed. 

“Hey, kiddo,” greeted Castle. He sat on the edge of the bed and brushed his hand over the top of Kevin’s head. The four-year-old had been sitting upright and hugging his shins as he stared blindly at the huge portrait of Linus the Lion. Next to him, Javier was curled up on his side and breathing evenly in sleep. Apparently he hadn’t stayed awake for very long. “You feeling all right?”

“Not really,” mumbled the blond. Kevin moved his arms behind himself so he could balance as he leaned backwards. He stretched out his stiff legs and dropped his chin to look morosely at his tiny feet. 

“Probably because you haven’t eaten anything all day,” said Castle. “Let’s get you some food and then I need your help with some things.” Hopefully engaging the shrunken partners in the changes to the loft and in making big decisions would make accepting their new lives a little easier. 

“I’m not hungry,” Kevin informed him. 

“Too bad.” Castle caught the boy under his arms and set him on his feet on the floor. “You better start thinking of something that sounds good, or you’ll be stuck with whatever I chose when we reach the kitchen.” He prodded Kevin to start walking. The little boy huffed irritably as he trudged toward the door. Castle followed him, thinking of what he could prepare for his older boy to eat. Bianca’s purple smoothie was supposedly good for general health, but the writer had a hard time believing it met all of a growing boy’s nutritional needs. 

Martha had finished preparing her fruit salad and was just about done wiping down the counter when Castle and Kevin reached the island. She directed a sympathetic smile at the moping blond. “Did you change your mind about lunch, Kevin?” she asked. 

“No,” muttered Kevin. “But apparently I don’t actually have a choice.”

“Boo hoo,” said Castle as he pulled open his upper cupboard and located a jar of creamy peanut butter. That stuff was packed full of nutrients. Behind it was a box of raisins that the writer had completely forgotten about. To his delight, they weren’t past their expiration date quite yet. He set both items on the counter in front of Kevin, who’d laboriously pulled himself up into one of the bar chairs. The blond eyed the food like it was radioactive. 

“Was Javier asleep again?” asked Martha.

“Yeah,” replied Castle. “I’m really not sure what to expect from someone who’s suffered a… well, you know. When should I start being concerned about how much he’s sleeping?”

“That is certainly not a question that I’m equipped to answer,” said Martha. She frowned deeply. “I’m sure he’s exhausted after the ordeal you all went through.”

Castle set the bag of celery he’d retrieved from the fridge on the island and appropriated his mother’s cutting board. He deftly chopped the stalks into shorter pieces and then ran them under the tap water to rinse off any dirt or pesticides. “I’d take him to a doctor, but I don’t think they teach how to treat magically induced cardiac arrest in medical school.”

“You should take them both for checkups anyway,” said Martha. “You need to reestablish their medical histories.”

“I don’t want to rack up any more doctor bills,” said Kevin.

“Well, now that you’re officially staying small, we’ll get you added to either mine or Beckett’s health insurance.” Rick stuck a line of raisins into the peanut butter filling the curve of the celery stick. “Ants on a log,” he announced. “Enjoy.”

Kevin made a face at the juvenile snack. Nevertheless, he picked off one of the raisins to eat separately. The act of eating seemed to spur his mostly absent appetite. He finished off the “ants” and then set to work sucking the peanut butter out of the celery trough. 

Castle completed a few more “logs” and set them in front of the little boy. He next set about preparing a blender full of homemade protein shake for Javier, including some of the pediatric supplement Dr. Rosencrantz had suggested after treating Kevin’s dislocated shoulder.

The writer shook his head briefly. That terrible afternoon seemed like it had taken place forever ago, when in reality it had only been two weeks. If he ever sat down to really process the chaos they’d survived since the run-in with Nora Bellefonte, his head might explode. For now, he figured he was better off just continuing to plow forward without looking back. There’d be time for processing (and the associated therapy) later. 

When the shake was done, Castle poured some of the mixture into a small plastic cup and then capped the blender and stashed the whole thing in the refrigerator. He addressed Kevin before he returned to the master suite. “When you’re finished - and I expect you to eat _all_ of it - go find a clean change of clothes and meet me back in my room.” 

“Why?”

“Because I told you to,” said Castle impatiently. The boys weren’t going to like it, but he needed to start acutely defining their new familial roles or they’d be plagued by constant altercations. “Mother, are their smaller outfits all unpacked?”

“No,” replied Martha. “But it’ll be easy enough to pull them out of the boxes. Everything should be clean. I’ll help Kevin find his things when he’s done eating.”

“Thank you.” Castle ignored the thunder clouds accumulating over his new son’s head. He knew the detective wouldn’t dare give Martha a hard time, so he didn’t hesitate to leave Kevin in his mother’s capable hands. The writer headed for his bedroom and futilely hoped that Javier had miraculously bounced back in the last twenty minutes and would be wide awake when he entered the cozy space. To no great surprise, that wasn’t the case. 

Castle had just lifted Javier off of the bed when he heard the buzzer from the doorman’s office. Given that he wasn’t expecting company, the sound took him by surprise. He strained his ears to hear who had arrived, but the only voice he could clearly make out was his mother’s as she invited up their guests. A couple of seconds later, he heard the little patter of feet as Kevin came tearing into his bedroom.

“What’s going on?” demanded the writer, unnerved by the boy’s behavior. Kevin struggled to pull himself onto the bed with just one hand, but in the end he was successful. The four-year-old sidled up close to the writer’s side. Castle eyed his half-eaten celery stick warily. 

“The witches are here,” whispered the blond.

_to be continued…_


	7. 70: July 16 - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Kate gets a lead...

### Chapter Seventy

“The witches are here,” whispered the blond. 

“Which witches?”

“Bianca.”

Castle let out the breath he’d been half-holding and nudged the little boy irritably. “With the way you ran in here like the devil himself had shown up, I thought it was one of the bad witches.” He adjusted his hold on Javier, who was clinging tenaciously to sleep. 

“I don’t like any of them,” said Kevin darkly. 

“I’m not a huge fan of most of them, myself. But Bianca can probably tell us what’s going on with your partner’s health.” It took a bit of effort and awkward squirming, but Castle was able to slide off of the bed and gain his feet without dropping the older boy. “Come on, squirt.”

“I wish you would stop calling me that,” complained Kevin. He obediently jumped off of the bed, though the price of his compliance was sticky fingers through Castle’s belt loop. It could be worse, and Castle definitely didn’t mind the younger males looking to him for a sense of security. He appreciated that while Kevin was in a bit of a mood today, he wasn’t outright defying the writer. 

“I mean it with the utmost affection,” said Castle. He moved toward the door to his bedroom, pulling the cursed detective along with him. 

“You just like to rub in the fact that you’re freakishly tall,” said Kevin. As they passed through the office and into the open living area, Kevin made sure to stay as hidden behind Castle as possible. The writer was just about to start teasing the boy when he noticed that Bianca wasn’t the only witch who’d journeyed up to his loft. He easily recognized Widow Kennedy looking extremely inconvenienced where she sat stiffly in one of his chairs. Beckett definitely needed to have a word with her witchy ally about how _not_ acceptable it was to bring random witches to their home without permission. 

“Bianca. Mrs. Kennedy,” said Castle. He’d be a gracious host, despite his unhappiness at the widow’s presence. 

“Mr. Castle,” greeted the head Councilwoman. Bianca merely dipped her head in greeting. Castle’s sense of alarm was renewed when he realized just how haggard the white witch looked. He wondered if she’d slept at all since the whole process to undo the spell had started. 

“Would you like anything to eat or drink?” offered Castle. He couldn’t exactly get them anything himself, but he shot a look at his mother who loitered near the kitchen island. 

“Some water, if you please,” said Widow Kennedy. 

Castle took a seat at the opposite end of the couch from Bianca. He left enough room between himself and the armrest for Kevin to squeeze in next to him. “Detective Beckett is at the precinct right now,” he said. He wished that his girlfriend was there. He’d prefer to keep himself and the boys as far under the witches’ radar as possible. 

“As she should be,” said Bianca. “We have information to impart that Katherine needs to know, but our time is short and I thought it prudent to check on the boys. I’m sure you can pass our message on to her.”

“Of course,” agreed Castle. “Is everything okay with Dr. Bellefonte?”

“His condition is still critical,” said Bianca. “But not without a glimmer of hope.”

“I hope you appreciate the personal sacrifice he made on your behalf,” said Widow Kennedy snidely. “And Bianca’s as well.”

“I assure you, we appreciate it,” said Castle, not hiding the edge in his own tone. He briefly tightened his hold on Javier. “But I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that none of this would have been necessary if your peers had left us alone in the first place.” 

Bianca raised her hand to cut off any further discussion along those lines. “The past is behind us, where it should be. Now, we have to look forward.” The white witch looked up and smiled tiredly at Martha when the actress handed her a tall glass of water. Bianca paused to take a few deep sips. On the other hand, Widow Kennedy set hers aside and never looked at it again. 

“What, exactly, happened?” asked Castle. “I know about the fail-safe, but I’m still fuzzy on the whole chain of events.”

Bianca shifted stiffly. “Once the fail-safe was triggered, your young _tesoro’s_ heart stopped. Randall had the good foresight to reweave what had been undone so far, including resetting the fail-safe. Like the original spell, it took a vast amount of energy and ability. On top of that, Randall had to bring the child back from the brink of death. If you know how much power it takes to resuscitate one using a defibrillator, then you can imagine what it took to accomplish the same using magic.”

Castle knew enough about more natural forms of cardiac arrest to have an idea of what kind lasting damage it could cause. He looked down at the smooth, youthful features of the child in his arms. At the time, he thought nothing could be worse than the scare they’d had in Vermont concerning Kevin’s health. There were few words scarier than cancer in his mind. While still discouraging to learn of the Irishman’s final diagnosis of Hemolytic Anemia, at least it was a treatable condition that would eventually disappear completely. 

But if Javier had sustained brain damage during the time he’d been clinically dead, or had irreparable harm to his circulatory system, that would be a completely different situation. Was that the reason the Hispanic boy was having such a hard time staying awake for any length of time?

Bianca seemed to read his expression. “I do not think he suffered any lasting effects,” she said calmly. “May I see him?”

Castle gently laid Javier on the cushion separating the two adults. “Come on, buddy. Wake up for me.” 

Javier blinked a couple of times against the brightness of the living room. Once he was able to focus, he immediately sought out Castle. The writer smiled reassuringly as he helped Javier sit upright. “Bianca has come to see how you’re doing,” Castle explained. 

“’M fine,” said the boy with a voice rough from disuse. 

“Let me look at you, _tesoro_ ,” said Bianca softly. She cupped his face in her hands and looked deep into his tired chocolate brown eyes. 

Castle waited anxiously for her verdict. When Bianca dropped her arms and leaned back wearily, he prodded her for information. “Well? Should I be concerned about anything?”

“No,” replied the white witch. “He will need time and sustenance to recoup his strength, but I do not foresee any lasting effects from the misspell.”

“Except for the obvious,” grumbled Kevin to himself. He shrunk down in embarrassment when he realized that everyone in the room had heard him clearly. 

“Yes, except for that,” said Bianca indulgently. “Come, let me look at you, too.”

Kevin made no move to come out from behind his Castle-shaped shield, but he did address the white witch from his fortified position. “Can we try the counter-spell again later, if you rework it?”

“It will be a long time before Randall will be able to work such great magic again,” said Bianca. Castle didn’t miss the note of sadness in her tone. He wasn’t sure if Bianca lamented the loss of a strong witch with a decent character and set of morals, or the doctor himself. He supposed the older woman might be fond of her protégé even without their shared hobbies. 

“What happened to him?” asked Castle. He wrapped a comforting arm around Javier when the six-year-old snuggled up to his side.

“His condition is similar to that of one who has suffered a stroke,” said Bianca. 

“Like his mother,” recalled Castle. 

“Yes. Fortunately, Randall was in the midst of our kind and received immediate care. Still, he had pushed himself much too far.”

“As I said earlier, we are very grateful for what he did for Javier,” said Castle. “Aren’t we, boys?” He turned to his side to give Kevin a prodding look.

The little blond glanced at Widow Kennedy distrustfully before looking up at Castle. “Yes, of course I’m thankful that Javi is going to be all right. Isn’t there someone else who can do the counter-spell?”

“I can speak to that,” said Widow Kennedy stoically. “Is it still your position that none of our brethren may study the retrogression spell’s remarkable results?”

“Absolutely,” said Castle, firmly and without hesitation. 

“Then there is none who will perform any type of counter-spell,” the Councilwoman said unsympathetically. “The rest of us are not driven by a conscience tormented with misplaced guilt.”

Kevin leaned around Castle to glare at the witch. “Anyone with a shred of compassion would help because it’s the right thing to do.”

“I have more pressing matters to deal with that leave no time for pitying a _child_ ,” replied the widow. 

Castle braced an arm across Kevin’s torso to keep the boy from jumping off of the couch and venting his frustration and hurt on the heartless witch. “I don’t doubt that you have a lot on your plate, what with taking over the witchy Council,” Castle said. It was a struggle to keep his own dislike from leaking into his tone. “Was making another attempt to steal the boys away from us your only reason for joining Bianca, or do you have other business to discuss?”

“Until you and Detective Beckett are ready to meet us half-way, I do not wish to see or hear of you again,” said Widow Kennedy. “Do not show up uninvited to any more of our meetings, nor petition Bianca to speak on your behalf. The Council is through with you.”

“That’s perfectly fine with me,” said Castle. “Just make it clear to your peers that this goes for the non-Council members, too.”

Bianca sighed, unhappy with the turn the conversation was taking. “Anise, you should tell Mr. Castle what you know about Serafina Valduerez's murder so that we may take our leave.”

“You know something about Beckett’s case?” Castle really wished Kate was there so she could slap handcuffs on this harsh woman for withholding information from the police during a homicide investigation. 

“What I know,” said Widow Kennedy, “is that the next person to face disciplinary action from the Council, before my husband passed away, was Wayne Jones.”

“Disciplinary action for what?” His curiosity piqued, Castle temporarily abandoned his anger. 

“For the same thing of which you accuse my late husband,” said Widow Kennedy bitterly. 

The M-word was on the tip of his tongue but Castle wisely gulped it down instead of spitting it out. “Why are you telling us this?”

“Like I said, I intend to never have the pleasure of working with the NYPD again. Do with it what you will, but do not come bothering the Council again.” The finality of her tone clearly conveyed to Castle that she was finished with the conversation. She punctuated her statement by standing up. Unable to not play the part of good host, Castle disentangled himself from his boys and stood up as well. He offered a hand to help Bianca rise, which the white witch accepted gracefully. 

“You are not completely alone in this,” said the older woman quietly. “You may call on me if you have need of anything.”

“Thank you,” said Castle. Honestly, now that she had reassured him that Javier would be fine, he hoped to not have any reason to see her again, either. Witches, no matter their intentions, had caused him and his friends nothing but grief over the past two and a half weeks. 

He followed his guests to the door and held it open so they could leave. Once the pair had crossed the threshold, he closed and locked the door behind them. Castle exhaled loudly and ran a hand through his hair. He caught sight of his mother at the kitchen island out of the corner of his eye. “Next time, say we’re not at home.”

“Noted,” said the actress. “Were you able to get Javier to drink any of your protein shake?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, see to that,” said Martha. “Kevin, we still need to unpack your clothes. You ran off to hide before we could do that.”

The four-year-old’s cheeks pinked. “I didn’t hide. I was informing Castle that he had visitors.”

“Sure you were.” She held out a perfectly manicured hand to the cursed detective. Kevin didn’t reach back to her, but he did grudgingly let Martha lead him toward the guest room. 

Castle hurried back into his bedroom to grab the abandoned cup of peanut-butter mush from his nightstand. In the living room, Javier was still awake, though he slouched miserably against the back of the sofa. Castle sat down next to him and held the cup up to his mouth. 

After one small swallow, Javier pushed Castle’s hand away. “What is that?”

“Mostly peanut butter,” replied the writer. “Surely it doesn’t taste that badly.”

“I’ve had better.” 

“And I’m sure you’ve had worse. We need to build back up your energy reserves, so you have to drink it.” Exhaustion and trauma had left the six-year-old uncharacteristically compliant, so Castle was able to coax Javier into drinking as much of the concoction as he could stomach. The writer dreaded the days when Javier’s attitude would return, exacerbated by the detective’s disappointment at staying small. 

It was readily apparent that Javier planned to nap again in the near future. Castle carried him back into the master bedroom and placed him on the bed. A moment later, his mother and Kevin followed him. “I figured you’d probably want a clean change of clothes for Javier, too,” said Martha wisely. Castle nodded gratefully. 

“I need to run some errands,” said Castle. “I’ll take Kevin with me, but would you mind keeping an eye on Javier? I’m sure he’ll sleep most of the afternoon.”

“Of course,” agreed the actress. Castle knew that his mother wasn’t overly fond of being idle in the apartment, so he appreciated her willingness to help him while they adjusted to the huge changes in their lives. 

“I don’t want to run errands with you,” complained Kevin. He tossed his pile of clothes on the bed. 

“Remember when I said I needed your help? That’s what I was talking about,” said Castle. Kevin scowled at the floor. “Stay here,” instructed the writer. “I’m going to help Javier get cleaned up and then it’s your turn.”

The four-year-old plopped down on the carpet and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s like the universe just wanted to get in one last F-you by making me four again instead of nine.”

“We’ll make it work, kiddo,” promised Castle.

xXx

Two baths and a few phone calls later, Castle was ready to head to his first stop on his list of places to go and people to see. He patted his back pockets to make sure he had his wallet and phone. “Mother?”

“In here,” Martha called. She waved from her seat on the wide sofa. 

Castle walked over to stand behind his couch. “Are you sure you're okay keeping an eye on Javier for a few hours?”

“Richard, I’ve told you three times: he’ll be perfectly fine with me. I promise to check on him every half hour. I’m sure he’ll sleep the whole time you’re gone.” Martha narrowed her eyes as she regarded her son. 

“I know.” Castle sighed and shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Just… don’t invite any other guests up to the loft.”

“Really, Richard,” scoffed the actress. “What changed from this morning when you left me with both of them?”

“Madam Kennedy stopping by and making no secret about how much she despises Kate and I.”

“Yes, well there is that,” said Martha flippantly. “He’ll be fine, darling. Just go.”

Castle reluctantly turned and headed towards the master bedroom. Inside, he found both of the cursed detectives on his bed. Kevin was skimming one of his competitor’s novels near the foot of the bed, while Javier was curled up at the head, using Kate’s pillow. Castle leaned over the older boy to check that his sleep was peaceful. As he straightened up again, he said conversationally, “You two enjoy hiding out in here, because starting tonight you’re banished from my bed.”

Kevin simply gave him a bored look and closed the borrowed book without marking his spot. “Why? You and Beckett have some X-rated activities planned?”

“You know it,” rejoined Castle in an equally sarcastic tone. “Go find your sandals.”

Kevin unhappily slid off of the bed and disappeared to retrieve his shoes. Castle followed him a minute later, after searching for where he’d stashed the spare key to Kate’s Tribeca apartment. 

He met Kevin near the front door, where the four-year-old was finishing strapping on his Velcro leather sandals. Once the boy was standing again, Castle took one of his tiny hands in his own. “Good-bye, Mother.”

“Good-bye. Don’t worry so much.”

“I’ll try,” said Castle in exasperation. He opened the front door and pulled Kevin through the portal. They were silent as they walked down the hall to the elevator. At least it was a companionable quiet. The writer took a second to try to imagine being turned into a little kid. He couldn’t do it without feeling sick to his stomach. It gave him a new appreciation for what a trooper the Irishman was being, despite his currently sour disposition. Once the elevator doors had closed them into the small space, Castle dropped Kevin’s hand so he could brush his hand over the top of the boy’s tousled dark blonde hair. Willing to accept the gesture of comfort, Kevin leaned against his side. 

In the parking garage, Castle helped the cursed detective into his hated car seat and made sure the four-year-old was securely buckled in. He settled into the driver’s seat and temporarily adjusted his rearview mirror so he could see Kevin behind him. “What do you think about visiting Kate at work?”

“I don’t want to go to the precinct,” said Kevin. He pouted at his bare toes. 

“I need to get some paperwork from Captain Gates to give to my lawyer. I also want to let Kate know about the witches’ visit,” Castle explained. “We’ll be quick.”

“How come I can’t stay at the loft with Javi?” 

Castle sighed. Using the steering wheel for leverage, he twisted around in his seat so he could look at Kevin directly. “Because,” he said, “right now I can’t stand the idea of anyone except me making sure you two are safe and hale. If Javier weren’t so ill right now, I’d be dragging him along with us, too. I need you to stay with me. Okay?”

“Okay,” replied Kevin in a small voice. 

Castle tried to reassure him with a smile. “I promise to make this as painless as possible. I’ll be honest with you. Part of what I need my lawyer’s help with is transferring some of your assets over to me, so that I can liquidate them and put them in a trust fund so you’ll have a head start when you’re grown up again.”

“Liquidate,” said Kevin. He made a face, like the word tasted bitter in his mouth. “You’re going to sell all of my stuff.”

“Nothing that you want to keep,” Castle replied. “And every penny will remain yours.”

“I trust you,” said Kevin. “It’s just… not easy to let it all go.”

“I know, kiddo. I know.” He was sure that the words sounded empty to his friend, but Castle genuinely meant them. He did have a very active imagination, after all. It wasn’t hard to guess what his friend was feeling. 

Castle’s back started to protest his position, forcing him to sit straight. He shifted the car into reverse and carefully backed out of his parking space. 

_to be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to TXMedic for beta-reading. 
> 
> I greatly appreciate every review that I receive. Please let me know what you think, especially if you have ideas of ways I can improve. I cherish all my reviews. I write for fun but I always want to improve, so constructive criticism is always welcome. All mistakes are my own.


	8. 71: July 16 - Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Rick and Kevin visit Kate at work, and then they visit Rick's lawyer...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. Wow - it's been almost a year. My only excuse is that most days it feels like my job is trying to kill me and I've lost track of time in a big way. But writing has always been one of my best methods of coping with stress and while I haven't actually worked on this story in just as long, before I fell off of the band-wagon TXMedic and I had accumulated quite the extended TSA Universe. So even if this never makes it to the end, there's still a lot of story left to tell, and you guys should get to enjoy it as much as we do.

### Chapter Seventy-One

Beckett chewed on her lower lip as she stared at the murder board. She felt like the answers were just outside of her reach. The slightest hint would trigger the landslide that would lead to a conviction and closure for the victim’s family. It would lead to closure for _her_ family, to a degree. 

The chime of the elevator behind her desk drew her attention like it always did when the chair next to her desk stood empty. This time when she turned out of habit, she was rewarded with for what she’d been looking. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as she watched her boyfriend and child-sized partner cross the distance to her. 

“Hey, baby,” greeted the lead detective, holding out her hands to Kevin. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Castle wants to get a head start on erasing Detectives Ryan and Esposito from existence,” muttered the boy when he reached her side. Beckett smoothed down his wayward locks of hair. 

“Not exactly, though I did come to get some paperwork from the captain,” admitted her lover. “And I need to talk to you, in private, about a special visitor we had at the loft today.”

“What happened?” asked Beckett. Her happiness at seeing the pair was quickly overridden by worry. 

“Let me speak with Gates,” said Castle. “It won’t take long.”

“Fine,” agreed Beckett. She dealt with her impatience by lifting Kevin onto her lap as the writer walked away. “How are you feeling today, honey?”

“Depressed,” he said petulantly. 

“I meant physically,” she said. “The po-- uh, the smoothies you had the other day didn’t make you ill?”

“No,” replied Kevin. 

“Good.” Beckett caught one of his sandal-clad feet in her hand and inspected the footwear. “You know, being four instead of nine means that your shoes are that much more adorable. So tiny. And you know I’m an expert on shoes.”

“I don’t want to be adorable.”

“I don’t think there’s much you can do about it.” She kissed his soft cheek. “Want to see how much fun you’re missing?” she asked dryly. She spun her chair around so they faced her computer. On the screen were Hanson’s phone records, which had yielded as little information this go-around as they did the first three times she’d scanned them. 

Kevin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. Beckett was sick of looking at the useless data, so she instead tried to develop x-ray vision so she could see Castle talking to Captain Gates. It was unfortunate that the second sight Randy had given her didn’t allow her to see through solid objects. 

About five minutes into his perusal of the phone records, Kevin suddenly pushed back on the desk and managed to catch Beckett off guard. Her rolling chair slid back far enough to allow the four-year-old to squirm off of her lap. She recognized the expression on his face from the hundreds of times she’d seen it on suspects who were desperately looking for a place to hide. “What’s wrong?” she asked, catching his wrist so he couldn’t bolt across the bullpen. 

“It’s too weird,” Kevin answered in a slightly strangled voice. “I don’t want to be here.”

“You’re all right,” Beckett said, hoping to soothe him. 

“I… I forgot for a second. Everything that happened. It was like being back to normal. And then I remembered I was _sitting on your lap_.” The high pitch of his voice at the end of his statement warned her that either a panic attack or a tantrum was imminent. 

“Shh,” she hushed. “You don’t have to look at the phone records anymore.”

“It’s not just that. It’s everything. Every room in this building is packed with memories.” He squeezed his eyes shut, as if blocking out the view would stop his rush of memories. 

“Okay,” said Beckett. She caught him under his arms and settled him on her hip. She was no stranger to being overwhelmed by bursts of memory that left her yearning for better days. She understood how terrible Kevin must be feeling right now. 

There was one room in the precinct for which she was quite sure her partner didn’t have a cache of memories. As the swinging door settled into place behind her, Beckett eased the weight of the boy onto the retro tiles of the Ladies’ Room vanity.

“This isn’t any better,” bemoaned Kevin. “What is your obsession with dragging me into girls’ bathrooms?”

“They’re convenient,” rejoined the lead detective. “Crisis averted?”

“I told Castle I didn’t want to come here,” Kevin said. “I’m trying really hard to keep it together, but all I want to do is scream about how unfair this is.”

“I know you are, and you’re doing a great job, baby,” said Beckett. 

“At least Javi gets to sleep through all of this.” The blond sniffled and wiped angrily at his watering eyes. 

“Hopefully not for much longer,” said Beckett. 

The door to the restroom opened again to admit Detective Roslyn Karpowski. “Detective Beckett? Is everything all right?”

Beckett shifted to block Kevin from the other woman’s view. She wrapped her arms comfortingly around his back when he scooted forward to hide his face in her blouse. Given how quickly Demming had identified her shrunken partner, Beckett fully respected Kevin’s fear of being recognized by his co-workers. 

“Being in a police station triggered some bad memories,” explained Beckett. “He’s spent a lot of time in them recently, after everything that happened.” It was kind of true. 

“Poor little guy,” said Karpowski. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thanks.” Beckett hoped that her forced smile was convincing enough to make the other officer go and stay away. 

“Okay. Mr. Castle wanted me to let you know he’s done speaking with the captain.”

“We’ll be out in a minute,” promised Beckett. Detective Karpowski finally left after one last sympathetic glance at the shivering four-year-old. Beckett took a step back so she could see Kevin’s face. “Can you stand it for one more minute? I’ll tell Rick to take you home right away.” Kevin nodded bravely. 

Beckett grabbed a handful of paper towels and got them damp before wiping up the salty tracks from her partner’s cheeks. She let him use the wad to blow his nose when she was finished. Content that she’d dammed the waterworks temporarily, Beckett picked Kevin up again and carried him out of the restroom. 

Bravely wasn’t exactly how Beckett would describe Kevin’s endurance of being once again in the middle of the bullpen where he’d spent so much of his adult life. His little arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders and he kept his face hidden in the curve of her neck, even after they'd joined Castle and Captain Gates in the pseudo-privacy of the break room. Beckett tried to hum deep in her chest in hopes that it would calm him a little bit, but she was too distracted by her attempts to read the expressions on Gates’ and Castle’s faces to produce more than short little bursts of vibration. 

“What happened?” asked Castle. He reached for Kevin and would have stolen the child from her if Kevin hadn’t held on even tighter when the writer pulled at him. Beckett lifted her chin imperiously and winked at her boyfriend as she set out easing her partner’s worries that she’d hand him off. 

“Being here is driving home the knowledge that this part of his life is over,” said Beckett when she was done gloating. “You need to take him back to the loft.”

Castle sighed. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I got what I needed from Captain Gates, so we can go as soon as I update Kate on today’s visitors.”

Beckett would have insisted that Castle not delay any longer, but her combined worry and curiosity led her to demand that he spill his guts right then. “Who came by the loft?”

Castle briefly outlined the visit by Bianca and Madam Kennedy. The lead detective was equally irate that the widow was now familiar with where the group lived. It was all the worse knowing the widow’s opinion of Castle’s and Beckett’s refusal to turn the boys over to the witchy community as magical experiments. Only time would tell if the tidbit of information Widow Kennedy had given them in the form of Wayne Jones’ name would absolve Bianca of Beckett’s righteous indignation. 

Eager to not cause Kevin any more distress, Castle and Beckett exchanged an abbreviated good-bye kiss. Knowing that Castle was his ticket out of the precinct, Kevin allowed Beckett to peel him off of her front so the writer could take custody of him. He curled into the older man much the same way that he had to his partner. Castle expertly juggled the four-year-old and his handful of manila envelopes. “I’ll see you tonight,” Castle promised Beckett. 

A minute later, they were gone. Beckett was once more alone in the world that used to include her lover and two men who’d been like brothers to her. Not wanting to dwell on her losses, Beckett summoned her borrowed team and set them on their new course of investigation.

xXx

Castle set Kevin in the five-point car seat and pulled all of the straps into place. He managed to catch the shrunken detective’s gaze as he snapped the final piece into place over the boy’s tummy. “I still need to take care of some things and I’d prefer that you stayed with me, but if you really want to go back to the loft, I can drop you off,” he offered.

“Either way it’s going to be awful,” muttered Kevin. “Watching you disassemble my life or watching Javier sleep like he’s half dead.”

“Javier is going to be fine,” said Castle resolutely. “Unlike your reaction to Bellefonte One’s spell, I don’t think he’s going to suffer any lasting effects from his little dalliance with death.”

“This would all be so much easier if that woman had actually spiked the lemonade with poison, and not her stupid spell.”

“Kevin Ryan,” said Castle with a tinge of anger. He held the boy’s chin still so he could look directly into the red-rimmed blue eyes. “That outcome would not have been easier on anybody. Do not think or talk like that ever again.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered the cursed detective. 

“It’s okay,” said Castle. He leaned forward to kiss the boy’s scrunched forehead. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

It broke Castle’s heart as he closed the rear door on Kevin’s muted sniffles. He eased into the driver’s seat stiffly, feeling as if he’d aged ten years in the last ten minutes. Up until this point, he hadn’t really felt the rage that had driven Beckett to make enemies with as many witches as she could find. Holding down the fort had taken up all of his time. Now, he felt it start to simmer in his own chest and he wanted nothing more than to knock a few scary-faced skulls together. He wasn’t angry at Kevin, he was furious with those who had done this to the Irishman and his partner. 

Kevin had recovered most of his composure by the time Castle parked in front of Kate’s Tribeca apartment. They spent a grand total of five minutes in the place while the writer retrieved the fake adoption papers they’d stashed there a few days past. Castle made sure that the apartment was securely locked using the spare key his girlfriend had given him a long time ago and then they were off to his next errand. 

Castle’s next destination was the garage of his lawyer’s office building. Before springing the detective from his safety seat, Castle popped the trunk of the Mercedes so he could slide the paperwork from the precinct into his messenger bag. It surprised him that Kevin didn’t want to be carried, though the child’s clinginess as he latched onto the hem of the writer’s shirt was expected. Together, they navigated down the sloped aisle toward the elevator bank. 

They’d parked on the second floor of the garage and his high-powered attorney’s firm resided on the fifteenth floor. At the sixth floor, the elevator stopped to admit new passengers. The pair of attractive young women, with heavy eye makeup and dressed in power suits, needed only seconds to recognize the famous author. On any other day, Castle would have soaked up their adoration like a sponge. Now, it was most unwelcome. 

“Oh my gosh! Richard Castle?” Her bright eyes and wide smile wiped away any evidence of the passage on time in her face, giving her the look of a fresh-faced fanatic with too much time to spend ogling internet pictures of her favorite celebrities. “I’m a huge fun of yours. I love Detective Nikki Heat.”

Her friend was no better. “I can’t believe I finally get to meet you,” gushed the young woman. “I think I read every single one of your Derek Storm novels in a week after Lucy introduced them to me.”

“That’s quite the feat,” said Castle awkwardly. He forced himself to smile as he inched to the side, hoping to hide his companion in the corner of the small car. 

“I’m a fast reader,” she replied giddily. 

“She didn’t sleep that week,” chuckled the first girl, presumably named Lucy. “Can I get a picture with you so my sister believes I met you? She’s a big fan, too.”

“Uh, I don’t know if right now is a good time…”

“It’s perfect,” said Lucy. She dug her phone out of her purse and expertly flipped the camera to selfie mode. The two heavily perfumed paralegals crowded in on either side of him and a second later, the picture had been snapped. Castle did his best to hide his irritation and hoped that the pair weren’t going to the same floor as his lawyer's office. 

“Can I get your autograph?” asked the second girl. She conjured up an expensive leather folio and flipped to a blank sheet of paper. “Make it out to Gabby, please.”

“Ladies, I’m very sorry but I’m running late for an appointment,” Castle said. He willed the floors flashing toward fifteen to go more quickly. 

“You’re represented by Henry Browning, right?” asked Gabby. “He’s always behind schedule. You have plenty of time.” She shoved the folder under his nose.

“Right,” said Castle. Hoping that signing the paper would get her to leave him alone, he quickly scrawled out her name and his in the upper right corner of the pad. 

He thanked his lucky stars that the two girls were much more interested in him than-- “Oh my gosh, Gabby, look!” Lucy squealed like a teeny-bopper and dropped into a crouch so she’d be closer to Kevin’s eye level.

“See, I told you the rumors were true,” Gabby replied. “Did you really adopt two little kids, Mr. Castle?” 

“I guess the rumors are true,” replied the writer. He did his best to block Kevin from view. The tiny fingers digging into his hip were quite painful. He nearly choked on his shock when Lucy pointed her phone at Kevin. “Ladies, he’s just a child. No pictures, please.”

“He’s so cute, though,” said Gabby from where she’d leaned over to achieve a similarly low vantage point as her friend. She was giving Kevin quite the view down the neck of her low-cut shirt. “It’s adorable when little kids are shy. What’s your name, sweetie?” Kevin refused to answer her. 

The elevator finally chimed as it slid to a stop and the doors parted to reveal the familiar lobby of his lawyer’s firm. “Well, that’s my stop. Have a good afternoon, ladies.” Castle grabbed Kevin’s hand and practically yanked the child out of the confined space. Kevin miraculously kept his balance and stayed right on Castle’s heels. The two young women pouted as the doors closed again and they were whisked off to whatever floor they needed. The writer realized that the friends had been so distracted by meeting him that they’d never actually selected their own destination. A part of him meanly hoped that they’d missed their floor by multiple levels. 

At the far side of the richly appointed lobby was a large desk, manned by a familiar face. “Mr. Castle,” greeted Sheryl, Henry’s personal secretary. She was an older woman, much like her boss, and had being matronly down to an art. She’d doted on Alexis the few times that Castle had brought his small daughter with him to a meeting with his long-standing friend and confidant. “Mr. Browning is still tied up in another meeting. Can I get you something to drink in the meantime?” 

“Coffee would be wonderful,” said Castle. “And a bottle of water, please.”

Sheryl smiled warmly. “Of course. Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

Castle led Kevin over to the small grouping of modern chairs and sofa. “You okay, kiddo?” he asked once Kevin was settled in against the older man’s side. 

“Are all of your fans that rabid?”

“Not all of them,” said Castle dryly. 

Sheryl returned with Castle’s coffee, the bottle of water, and an apple juice box. “You look like you’re having a rough day, honey,” said the secretary as she handed the cardboard drink container to the four-year-old. She'd already punched the plastic straw through the small opening in the top of the carton. Kevin nodded minutely and took his first slurp of the sugary drink. Sheryl focused on Castle. “Mr. Browning alerted me that you were coming in to talk about adoptions and asked me to have some forms ready in case you needed them.”

“Officially, it’s my mother whose name will be on the paperwork,” said Castle. “Mostly to avoid more encounters like the one we just had.” Castle calmed his nerves with a long sip of the heavenly brew. “Sheryl, this is Kevin Raley. Kev, this is Sheryl Pike. She’s been working for Mr. Browning since Alexis was about your size.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Kevin,” said Sheryl in a motherly voice. She didn’t seem offended when all she got in response was another uneasy glance before the boy refocused on his juice box. Sheryl turned toward Castle and raised an eyebrow at him. “Raley, hm? And here I was under the impression that Nikki Heat’s fellow detectives were based on Miss Beckett’s real-life partners.”

“They are,” replied Castle quickly. “I had to get a name from somewhere, though.”

“And what was your inspiration for poor Randall Feller’s name?” teased the older woman. 

“I credit that one to my inner child’s determination to never mature past thirteen.”

“That’s generous,” mumbled Kevin around his straw. Sheryl laughed gaily and grinned widely at the child. This time Kevin offered her a hesitant smile in return. 

Castle frowned in mock hurt. “He’s very precocious and his new mommy is determined to teach both boys the art of scathing sarcasm.”

“Where is your other future son?” questioned Sheryl. 

“He’s having a worse day than this one, if you can believe it. He came down with something nasty, so he’s sleeping it off while Martha watches him.”

“Poor dear. Wish him well for me.” The buzzer on Sheryl’s desk sounded, alerting them that Mr. Browning was finished with his previous meeting and ready to greet his famous and troublesome client.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure when I'll update again at Fanfiction.net, so if you're used to leaving comments on the story there, please consider reviewing here instead.


	9. 72: July 16 - Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Beckett continues working on the Valduerez murder and her father comes over for dinner...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers apply: I’m not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

### Chapter Seventy-Two

Beckett was not impressed. In a city with a police force as decorated as the NYPD, it should not be this difficult to locate a man suspected of murder. Even if Jones had slipped away in the two and a half weeks since killing Serafina Valduerez, her contacts in the FBI or CIA should have been able to get a hit on him. Her impatience to solve this case might be making her a bit irrational (two and a half weeks was a long time to give someone on the run), and also uncharacteristically unsympathetic to those mourning the loss of their brothers in blue. 

Captain Gates had made her announcement around mid-afternoon. The rest of the day, Beckett struggled to keep the other detectives and officers on task. Maybe if the news had been real, Beckett could find more compassion for their sadness and patience for their endless questions. Maybe if she wasn't having such a hard time focusing herself, her peers would stop asking if _she_ was all right. Luckily, her reputation for being hard-nosed in the face of adversity made her terseness seem less out of character. 

They were no closer to tracking down Wayne Jones when the clock struck five than they'd been after Beckett first forwarded the name to her coworkers. If the detectives under her authority knew what was good for them, they'd have Jones sitting in handcuffs in Interrogation One when she walked into the precinct on Thursday morning. The one day grace period was due to Gates' decision that tomorrow was the day that the Ryans and the Espositos would find out what had happened to their sons. Beckett knew they couldn't put off the visits any longer, but that didn't make her dread them any less. 

She ignored the collective sigh of relief in the bullpen when she grabbed her discarded suit jacket and headed for the elevator. So she'd been a bit prickly. They were cops, they could handle it. 

The drive back to the loft in heavy traffic gave Beckett time to transition from irritated lead investigator to worried girlfriend and mother-figure. She tried calling Bianca while she had the free time, but the white witch didn't answer her phone. The sea of brake lights ahead reminded her of the eerie second faces of witches who dabbled in dark magic. They also confirmed that she would have plenty of time to stew over the resemblance. Frustrated, she instructed her hands-free Bluetooth system to call her father.

Jim Beckett answered after four rings. "Hello?"

"Hey, Dad," she said. 

"Katie!" Her father's surprised happiness at hearing from her always made Beckett smirk, no matter how bad of a mood she was in. She'd offered plenty of times to get him a phone with caller ID, but he claimed there wasn't much left in life that could surprise him, so he looked forward to the little mystery that popped up each time his phone rang. "It's good to hear from you."

"You too," Beckett replied. "Are you busy?"

"I just poured myself a nightcap," said the retired lawyer. 

"Dad, it's barely after five," Beckett admonished. 

"I'm going fishing in the morning. Besides, I'm going to need more than one of these if I want to sleep through the racket that Mrs. Childress is making in her garden." Her father was no fan of the widow who lived next door, especially when she brought her portable radio outside to keep her company while she plucked the weeds out from between her tomato plants. 

"You're going to the coast?" asked Beckett, familiar with the charter that her father often joined since his retirement. 

"I am," confirmed her father. "Is everything all right, Katie?"

"Yes… no." It defeated the purpose of calling him if she wasn't going to be honest. "I had a bad day at work."

"Did that writer do something to upset you?" he asked. Even though her dad and lover had achieved a mostly amiable relationship, it would take very little for the lawyer to turn on Castle if he thought his daughter was being treated poorly. 

"No, he's the only one keeping me sane recently," Beckett answered. "He asked me to move in with him today. I said yes."

Her dad was quiet for a moment, probably confused as to why her words didn't match her tone. "As long as he treats you well, then I'm happy for you, Katie."

"There's more," she hurried to continue before she lost her nerve. "I should probably tell you this in person, but I don't know when I'm going to have time to drive up to see you in the near future. Rick and I have, uh, decided to adopt."

"Adopt… a dog?" He cleared his throat audibly. 

Beckett frowned. Her dad was not going to approve. Oh well, it wasn't his life. "No, Dad. A child. Two of them, actually." The butterflies in her stomach started fluttering intensely and she found herself rambling. "Though, a dog could be nice, too. I think I'd like a dog. A small one, probably. But not a yippy--"

"Katie," said her father sternly. "Children? Don't you think you're rushing this a bit? Moving in together is one thing. Honey, you're not even married yet. Who put this crazy idea in your head? Martha?"

"Dad, I'm thirty-six and I've been dating Rick for almost a year, which doesn't even count the two years before that when we were unofficially dating. I don't think we're _rushing_ here. Besides, I thought you wanted grandkids."

"Not like this!" Her father took a deep breath to calm himself. "Fine. Convince me that this is in any way a good idea."

He already thought she was crazy. Might as well prove it. "Do you remember Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan, the junior detectives who worked… work with me?"

"I do," he said impatiently. 

"Well, we are working a homicide case where the victim is an eight-year-old girl." She paused while her dad expressed his sympathy. "Except, she's not really a little girl, but forty-eight years old. A witch used a magic spell to turn her into a child so she could rob unsuspecting people." This was where she was going to lose him, so she rushed to finish her explanation. "That same witch turned Esposito and Ryan into little kids, too, and the spell can't be undone. They're six and four now."

Beckett worried that the call had been dropped, except that the center display on her console showed the timer on the call faithfully ticking away the seconds. "Excuse me, honey. I think there's something bad about this bourbon. I imagined that you were trying to tell me that a _witch_ turned your _partners_ into _children_."

"That is what I said," replied Beckett. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I know it sounds crazy--"

"Ludicrous," he corrected.

" _Nonsensical_ ," Beckett continued, strained. "But it's true. Have you ever known me to believe in the supernatural or extraterrestrial? I'm not telling you this to be funny, Dad."

"You're right, this doesn't sound like you at all. If things are overwhelming you at work, maybe you should schedule another appointment with Dr. Burke. He helped you immensely after you were shot."

"I don't need to talk to the shrink again," Beckett argued. _At least, not right away_. "Let me finish."

"I'm listening," he said, though he was starting to sound a little angry. 

Beckett took a moment to compose her thoughts. "So, Esposito and Ryan were turned into little kids, permanently. They are the boys I'm going to adopt with Rick."

"Katie, I'm sorry but this is just preposterous," said the retired lawyer. "Clearly that writer has been a bad influence on you, filling your head with fantastical nonsense."

"I thought you liked Rick," Beckett said shortly. 

"I did, until now."

Beckett wanted to smash her forehead against her steering wheel. Instead, she said, "All right, so you don't believe me. Why don't you come over for dinner tonight and I'll show you."

"I'm going fishing in the morning and I've already had my tainted nightcap."

" _Dad_."

Her father sighed with long-suffering. "What time?"

"Seven." That should give her plenty of time to gather the evidence that she needed and to make sure that everything was perfect. 

"I'll see you then, Katie."

"Thanks. And Dad? Even though you don't believe me right now, thank you for trusting me enough to make the drive into the city."

"You're welcome. I love you."

"Love you, too." Beckett ended the call and exhaled slowly. Her father should be the easiest to explain this mess to. It would be good practice for tomorrow when she had to confront the Ryans and Ms. Esposito. As if to confirm she'd made the right decision in telling her father, traffic miraculously parted and she was able to make appreciable progress in her commute. 

Back at the loft, Beckett slid her key into front door lock to let herself in. She immediately felt guilty when she was hit with the mouthwatering smell of Castle's delicious roasted chicken and seasoned vegetables. She doubted the family would be too put out with her inviting her father at the last minute. 

"Katherine," greeted Martha enthusiastically. "Welcome home, darling. Richard told me the news about you moving in with us." Her wide grin implied that the actress didn't feel inconvenienced at all by the change. 

"Yeah." Beckett smiled tightly. "Martha, I figured that I should tell my father what's going on. I invited him to dinner tonight, at seven. I didn't know it would already be ready when I got home."

"That's not a problem, dear," said the actress. "It can all be warmed up again. Why don't you go relax in the meantime? I'm sure Ricky will want to tell you all about his visit to his lawyer today."

"Where are the kids?"

"Javier is in Richard's room. Kevin is around here, somewhere."

As if psychically hearing his name, the spellbound detective appeared from the hall that led to the guest bedroom and bath. He hurried to Beckett's side when he spotted her. "Hi," he greeted quietly. 

"Hi, baby boy." She knelt down, too tired to pick him up but wanting to be able to address him at eye level. "Are you recovered from the trauma of your visit to the precinct?"

"That wasn't half as bad as helping Castle dismantle my life," replied Kevin dourly. 

"I bet." Beckett dropped a kiss on his cheek. As she was pulling back, she noticed a fine dusting of powder at his temple. "What's this?" She wet her thumb with her tongue and used it to wipe away the substance. 

"Can you kindly _not_ use your spit to clean my face?" Kevin asked, pushing her hand away. He made a gross face at her. 

"Oh, I don't have cooties, you little brat," Beckett informed him. She caught his face with one hand so he couldn't pull away when she planted a second, very wet kiss on his cheek. His face turned red and he regarded her with a look of intense betrayal. Before he could put any distance between them, she snagged his hand and pulled him toward the kitchen. 

Martha handed her a damp dishrag. "Did I miss a spot?" the actress questioned. "Kevin helped Richard bread the chicken and it got a little messy."

"Me 'n' Javi might be in the bodies of little kids, but your boyfriend is the child around here," Kevin stated irritably. 

Beckett took her turn to make a face at her partner. "'Me 'n' Javi' sounds like something a four-year-old would say." She wiped away the last of the misplaced flour and turned his chin to check for any other remainders while Kevin scowled at her. "How come you're in such a bad mood?"

"I can't believe you would ask me that."

"You can't be a grump. You're supposed to be my perpetually optimistic little ray of sunshine."

"Well, come back in thirty years and maybe things will be different." He crossed his arms over his chest. 

"Can you try to find the Kevin Ryan we all know and love before dinner tonight? My dad is coming to meet you and Javi."

Kevin blinked in surprise and then immediately started to pout. "Why?"

"Because he has a right to know what's going on in my life," said Beckett. "Besides, I need the practice explaining the two of you to parental figures."

"Who else's parents are you going to spill our secret to?"

"Yours. Tomorrow."

Kevin's irritation melted into nervousness. "Tomorrow? Does it have to be so soon?" He wrung his hands together anxiously. "Maybe we should wait for a few years. We might still be able to break the curse."

Beckett's heart ached at the hopefulness in his tone. She wasn't quite sure what to make of the mixed messages she was getting from the Irish boy. He wasn't kicking and screaming about Castle going through the motions of adopting him, nor of starting the process of selling his apartment and the belongings he no longer needed. However, he still talked as if he expected to return to his adult life sooner than later. 

Beckett caught his hands in hers and held them securely. "Baby, the curse cannot be broken. Your family needs to know. It's already been almost three weeks." She needed a cop-out before she started shedding her own tears in response to her partner's crestfallen expression. "Anyway, this was Gates' decision, not mine. You'd have to convince her to wait." 

Castle emerged from his office then, drawing both detectives' attention. "Kate," he said, sounding happy to see her. He crossed the room to draw her into a deep kiss. "How'd the rest of your afternoon go?"

"I've had better," she replied after licking her lips. The writer tasted like the wine he'd drunk while cooking. "I'm glad to be… home." She was sure that his brilliant smile mirrored her own.

xXx

Jim Beckett arrived at exactly 6:55 pm. Kate had told Castle that she'd invited her father to dinner so she could introduce him to the boys in their new forms. Castle opened the door to admit the older man, who entered the loft and didn't bother to hide the cursory scan he gave the interior of the space. Mr. Beckett didn't find anything out of the ordinary until his second pass, when he finally spotted the brand new booster seat positioned in the chair to the left of the head of the dining room table.

"How are you, sir?" asked Castle. The retired lawyer hadn't worn a coat that the writer could offer to take, so he settled for offering him a drink instead. 

"It sounds like I need a scotch neat," said Mr. Beckett. He dipped his head respectfully when Martha appeared, sporting one of her bright dresses. Castle left the older couple to chat while he moved over to his liquor cabinet. 

"Jim, it's good to see you again," said Martha. The two had bonded over the shared experience of each being a parent to one half of the most danger-prone couple in the city. "How's retirement?"

"I'm supposed to be sleeping right now so I can catch a fishing charter at three tomorrow morning," he informed her. "And then Katie called to tell me that I'm about to become a grandfather."

"Well, you're in luck," said Martha with a wink. "There's nothing more fun." She tugged on his arm so he'd move to the living room where'd she'd left her own glass of brandy before running upstairs to retrieve something from her room. The older pair sat a respectable distance apart on the wide leather couch. When Castle handed him the tumbler of scotch, Mr. Beckett took it with a grateful, albeit tight, smile. 

"Where's Katie?" he asked. 

"Ah, she's trying to convince her uncharacteristically shy partners to come out of hiding," said Castle. "Maybe I should go help her." He shifted his weight awkwardly between his feet, too antsy to sit down himself. 

"Nonsense, dear. They'll be out in a minute," argued Martha. 

Mr. Beckett turned to his counterpart with a serious expression. "Katie told me that she believes witches turned her police partners into children. That's impossible, and--"

"Welcome to a new world," interrupted Martha. "I'll tell you the story, so when Katherine finally talks some sense into the boys, you'll be ready." She started from the beginning and recounted the last two and a half weeks to the best of her knowledge. Thanks to her theatrical training, she was able to weave a tale that drug in even the highly skeptical Mr. Beckett. 

Martha was just getting to the part where Rayford Bellefonte stole the boys away to a remote cabin in Vermont when Kate finally emerged. She looked stunning in her simple black dress. Grateful for an excuse to abandon his stance near the couch, the writer moved quickly to her side. "You look beautiful," Castle said. He pressed his lips against her lush ones chastely, not quite comfortable being too affectionate in front of her father. 

"Thanks." Kate regarded him fondly for a long moment and then turned to hug her father who had risen to greet her. "I'm glad you could make it."

"You're not one to make up fantastical stories like this," said Mr. Beckett. "I'm here to give you the benefit of the doubt." Castle could clearly imagine the unspoken continuation of the lawyer's thought. _And to make sure these drama-types haven't made you crazy_. 

"It's all true," said Kate. She brushed the back of her hand over her forehead tiredly and glanced toward the darkened doorway to Castle's office. 

"So where are they?" Mr. Beckett's tone sounded accusatory, as if the absence of the promised children proved that he was being set up for a mean joke. 

The uncomfortable tension in the room thickened further. It was no surprise that his mother would be the first to bail. Martha patted her son's shoulder after rising from her seat. "I'll pull the chicken from the warmer." She escaped to the kitchen. 

Kate looked fully at the door to Castle's office. Now that he was actually looking, too, the writer could see the pair mostly hidden in the shadow cast by one of the floor-to-ceiling bookcases. The lead detective motioned jerkily for Javier and Kevin to join them. It look a long few seconds for the boys to grudgingly approach them. "Dad, you remember Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan." She sounded a bit strangled. 

"Hello, sir," said Javier in a small voice. It was easy to hear the effect his illness and disuse was having on his vocal chords. Kevin didn't bother to say anything; he simply stared up at Kate's father nervously with his huge blue eyes. 

"Hello," said Mr. Beckett stiffly. He looked between the two, but it was clear he still didn't believe that the little boys were the NYPD homicide detectives he once knew. He looked back at his daughter. "There's a resemblance… but witchcraft?" Kate shrugged helplessly. The boys exchanged a look, after which Kevin turned to stare at Castle beseechingly. 

"Guys, come here," called Castle. He claimed a seat at one end of the couch. Javier and Kevin didn't hesitate to leave the awkward introduction to Kate's father. Javier came to a stop in front of the couch. The writer wrapped a steadying arm around the six-year-old as the boy leaned against the side of his knee. Kevin climbed onto the couch to sit practically on top of him. 

Kate pulled out her cell phone and opened the photo gallery so she could find the most recent pictures she had of her partners. She also queued up the photographs she'd downloaded with the boys' help from their Facebook accounts. "This is Detective Esposito from about two months ago." She swiped to the next picture. "This was taken in 1983." 

Mr. Beckett took the phone and flipped a few times between the two pictures. Convinced that the images were of the same young man, he focused on the off-color picture of the cheekily grinning kindergartener. He held it up, comparing the digital photograph to the little boy watching him warily from the protective hold of his daughter's boyfriend. Deciding that he needed a closer look, Mr. Beckett walked over to the couch and sat down gingerly on the front edge of the cushion. He took his time studying the six-year-old. Even though Javier was currently an unhealthy shade of pale and his expression was rather unhappy, the lawyer could not deny that the boy in the picture was the same as the one standing before him. 

"Witches aren't real." Mr. Beckett sounded as if he was making one last attempt to rescue the view of the world he'd maintained for over fifty years. 

"They are," said Kate. "Though, they have a disappointing lack of warts and green-tinged skin." She watched her father's face for a few moments before sitting down next to him and touching his arm gently. "You're doing better than me. It took me a day to finally realize I wasn't dreaming."

"I'm not convinced that isn't still a distinct possibility," said the lawyer dryly. 

Hoping to put everyone out of their misery sooner than later, Castle elbowed the four-year-old curled up against him. "Do you remember that time you and Espo talked Mr. Beckett into sending you photographs from when Kate was a model?" Kevin nodded minutely, never taking his eyes off of Kate's dad, whom he regarded as if the older man was as terrifying as the witches that plagued his nightmares. "How'd you convince him to send the pictures?"

"I told him that Beckett had been getting her digs in at us all day and it was only fair if we got some payback," replied Kevin robotically. 

"I remember that," said Mr. Beckett. "And I never told Katie what was said during the conversation."

"Neither did Detective Ryan," said Kate. "Despite my promises to make his working life miserable."

Mr. Beckett shifted back hesitantly to sit fully on the couch. "What happened to the person who did this to you?" He looked between the cursed detectives curiously. Even if he thought he was dreaming, he was making the best of the situation.

"She died," said Javier hoarsely. What little color that had found its way back into his complexion over the course of the day was starting to quickly drain away and Javier had to brace himself against Castle's leg for balance. Castle lifted the six-year-old into his lap and checked his temperature with the back of his hand. He didn't seem feverish, just worn out from standing for so long. The writer started to doubt that the Hispanic boy would make it through dinner with the family. 

Instead of addressing the shrunken detective directly, Mr. Beckett turned to his daughter. "What's wrong with him?"

"We thought we had found a way to undo the spell that made them little kids, but we were wrong," Kate explained briefly. "Javier became very sick after the counter-spell failed."

"And Detective Ryan?" Mr. Beckett cleared his throat and checked quickly on the four-year-old before turning back to his daughter. 

"Kevin," said Kate softly. "Javier went first. We didn't try again, obviously."

They were saved from continuing the very painful conversation when Martha announced that the reheated food was ready. Mr. Beckett was the first one to his feet. He wiped his hands over the front of his trousers and eagerly asked the redhead if she needed any help. Clearly reading their guest's discomfort, Martha agreed that she could use some assistance. Father and daughter moved to the kitchen to join her.

Castle shifted forward in his seat so he could stand without loosening his hold on Javier. Kevin followed his friends through the office and back into the master bedroom. "How are you feeling, buddy?" asked Castle after he laid the six-year-old on the expensive duvet. 

"Dizzy," admitted the Hispanic boy. "I don't think I can eat dinner."

"That's convenient," grumbled Kevin. His partner's dark eyes tracked to him irritably. Castle shot the younger boy his own disapproving look. "What? I don't want to go back out there so Beckett's dad can stare disbelievingly at me, either."

"I'm sure Javier would much prefer to feel better and be able to eat a real meal than stay in here and be miserable," said Castle. He snagged Kate's pillow for Javier's use. 

"I wouldn't," said Kevin with a scowl. 

Castle sighed. "Kevin, I need you to suck it up for a little bit longer, okay? I know you think it's unfair that you have to be the face of the curse for now, but I doubt you've forgotten how awful you felt after Bellefonte's new spell left you with anemia. Have a little compassion for your brother."

"I feel plenty bad for Javi." Kevin gave his partner a sympathetic look to reinforce his statement. "You and Beckett seem to forget that the worst part of the failed curse is the fact that it _failed_ and we're trapped in the bodies of little kids for the rest of our lives. I didn't get to dodge that bullet," he said morosely. 

"Please don't get teary right now," Castle pleaded, holding up placating hands. "I'm sure you don't want Kate's dad to see you upset." 

"Please explain to me how being upset about this is unreasonable," Kevin demanded, followed by a sniffle. 

"Okay, okay, okay." Castle took a deep breath. When Alexis had been four, no matter how precocious and mature his little girl was, there was no stopping a similar outpouring of emotions from her when her patience was finally spent. Even though Kevin hated crying over the curse, he was fighting a losing battle against his compromised self-control. "You have every right to be upset about this. You've been a very good sport all day and I cannot express how grateful I am that you've held it together for this long. Can you _please_ dredge up two more hours of composure and then you're off the hook for the rest of the night?"

In his pocket, Castle's phone started to vibrate with a text message. He pulled it out distractedly and then did a double take when he registered the 9-1-1 followed by multiple explanation points. "Hold that thought," he said, holding up his index finger. His literary agent almost never tried to contact him with such urgency. 

He hit the button to reply to the text message with a phone call. Paula Haas answered after the first ring. "What's going on?" he asked as soon as he heard her voice. 

"Do you know why it's seven thirty and I'm just now contacting you after being ready to wring your neck since three?"

"Did I miss another meeting?" Castle had been pretty sure that his calendar had been clear all day, save for the appointment he'd made with his lawyer.

"Did you miss another…" He could almost hear the steam coming out of her ears over the phone. "I wish that's what this was about. No, you didn't miss a meeting. Instead, you decided to tell the whole world that you were adopting some brat without even bothering to give me a head's up!"

"Uh…" Castle held the phone away from his ear briefly to give his abused eardrum a chance to recover. He glanced over at the bed where two pairs of curious eyes watched him, all illness and despair momentarily forgotten. He cleared his throat and dared to bring the phone back to his ear. "I did not?"

"You didn't what?" demanded Paula. "Didn't adopt or didn't tell everyone but your agent?"

"Tell everyone. I mean, anyone. How do you know about this?"

"My phone has not stopped ringing in four hours, Rick! The only media outlet that isn't barking up my tree yet is the _Times_ because they are respectable enough to not give a shit about the irresponsible things you do." That kind of hurt. _The New York Times_ did occasionally publish reviews of his novels and he'd made it to the top of their best seller list a few times. 

"I didn't tell anyone… oh." The paralegals at his lawyer's building had probably posted about his run-in with them on social media. He had pretty much told them that he was in the process of adopting the bashful preschooler hiding futilely behind his legs.

"Oh? Oh! Richard Castle, what am I going to do with you? I should have believed Gina when she told me what an idiot you can be. How am I supposed to be ready with an official statement when I don't even know what's going on?"

"I don't even understand why this is such a big deal. It's my private life," the writer told her irritably. 

"It's a big deal because until this afternoon, you were one of the city's most eligible bachelors and that helped you sell books to the unhappily married and the lonely unmarried bimbos that like you for some reason. If you're suddenly ready to man up and raise someone else's little monster, it could only mean that you're settling down…" Paula trailed off as she caught up with her own line of reasoning. "Who is she, Rick? You're not back together with Gina again, are you?"

"No, it's not Gina. Listen, Paula, I'm sorry--"

"Damn straight you're sorry. It's that hussy detective, isn't it? The one you verbally masturbate over in the Nikki Heat books. Did she finally fall for your questionable charms?"

"Paula, that's too far," said Castle angrily. He could take her slights to his character and reputation, but not Kate's. His girlfriend had worked too hard and endured too much to get where she was and she deserved better.

"I'm coming over and you're going to clear up this fiasco so I can get your story straight with the press and run damage control."

"Now is not a good time," Castle told her firmly. Unfortunately, only the dial tone heard him. When he tried to call her back, it went to voicemail. "Damn it."

"Castle?" 

The small voice distracted him from his thoughts about how rude and selfish the dark-haired woman could be when she felt that her "cash cow" was wandering off his pasture. As if dating someone seriously and having kids would actually lower sales of his books. Her poor opinion of his fans just made him all the angrier, especially when intelligent, strong women like Kate Beckett were counted among that crowd. He should have never slept with the agent. 

With great effort, Castle banished his irritation. "Sorry, guys," he apologized pointlessly.

"Who's Paula?" Javier pushed himself into a seated position, willing to make the effort in order to make sure Castle wasn't stepping out on Kate. 

"My agent," answered the writer. "She's mad because she found out about you via Twitter instead of from me," he said, making eye contact with Kevin. "And now she's on her way over here to continue her freak out in person."

"That sucks."

"Tell me about it." Castle sighed. There was nothing that could be done about it right then. "Javi, lay down, son. I'll bring you something to eat in a bit." Javier complied, curling around Kate's pillow miserably. Without having to ask him again to come to dinner, Kevin scooted to the edge of the bed and jumped to the floor. The four-year-old looked expectantly at the writer. "Well, if her yelling makes you feel better about your lot in life, I'll make sure to piss Paula off more often."

Kevin shook his head. "No. I just don't want to miss the fireworks."

Castle groaned and shook his head. He nudged the shrunken detective toward the door to the bedroom. After tonight, the boys might not be the only ones banished from the master bedroom.

xXx

To Castle's relief, Beckett didn't banish him from the master bedroom, despite the intense argument that the writer got drawn into with his literary agent. Even though the writer had directed the brash woman into his office for some privacy, they were clearly audible to everyone left at the dinner table. Beckett had apologized to her father for the unexpected visitor. Mr. Beckett took the whole thing in stride, likely writing it off as one more strange aspect to the fantastical dream into which he'd wandered.

After the agent finally left and the dinner ended, Castle helped Kevin and Javier get ready for bed while Beckett and Mrs. Rodgers cleaned up the kitchen. It was strange to brush one's teeth in the guest bathroom, using a child-sized toothbrush, and knowing that the situation was no longer temporary. 

Once Kevin was settled on his half of the guest bed, Castle patted his hand where it rested on top of the thin duvet. "Getting you guys your own beds is at the top of my list of things to do," he said tiredly. Kevin shrugged. He wasn't in a hurry to see the older man change even more in his own life to accommodate the stupid curse. "You'll call for me if you or Javi need anything, right?" The baby monitor that Javier hated so much was standing proudly on the nightstand. 

"We're fine," Kevin said. He just wanted to go to sleep so this day could be over. If only he could sleep through the next thirty years. 

Castle finally left, flipping off the overhead light but leaving the door to the hall ajar. Kevin rolled onto his side and stared at his partner's lax face until his eyes adjusted to the dimness and Javier's features were easier to see. "Are you awake?" the Irish boy queried. 

"Yeah," Javier replied, though he kept his eyes closed. "How was dinner?"

"Not as entertaining as I'd hoped," said Kevin. "It's not as much fun to watch Castle get yelled at when I'm the reason he's in trouble."

"Not your fault, bro."

"Indirectly." When Javier didn't argue, Kevin opted to change the subject. "What are we going to do?"

"About what?"

"The curse." Kevin rolled onto his back and worried the edge of the duvet. "Beckett is adamant that she won't try to find another way to undo it after… well, you know." Javier grumbled unhappily. "They act like it's no big deal to suddenly be stuck with two kids, but we're majorly imposing on Castle's life."

"Maybe we can try to find another way in a few days," said Javier. "There are still powerful witches that could help, and that jackhole Bellefonte One knew how to alter the spell the first time."

"Captain Gates is going to tell our families what happened tomorrow," said Kevin. He had to swallow hard around the growing lump in his throat. "Castle told his lawyer about us today, and he is supposed to meet his realtor at my apartment on Thursday. The only reason he hasn't started hacking away at your life is because you've been asleep all day."

"We'll figure this out, Kev," said Javier. "And if we do have to stay small for a while, we'll find a way to stay out of Beckett and Castle's way as much as possible."

"Yeah." Kevin frowned deeply at the ceiling above him. "I hope you start feeling better soon. I can't deal with all of this without you for much longer."

"You know me," said Javier, sounding much less convincing than his words. "I never stay down long."

Their conversation died off after that. As he waited for sleep, Kevin listened to Javier's soft, even breaths and tried as hard as he could to not think about all of the ways he'd lost control of his own life that day.

_to be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to TXMedic for beta-reading. 
> 
> I greatly appreciate every review that I receive. Please let me know what you think, especially if you have ideas of ways I can improve. I cherish all my reviews. I write for fun but I always want to improve, so constructive criticism is always welcome. All mistakes are my own.


	10. 73: July 17 - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the Ryans learn about Kevin and Javier's fate...

### Chapter Seventy-Three

Beckett finished straightening the stripes on her navy blue dress uniform and looked up. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror. She’d awoken that morning feeling nauseous, which she attributed to nerves at the upcoming confrontations. A couple of hours closer to the actual event, she was starting to feel better, despite her compounding nerves. Oh well, there wasn’t time to dwell on it now. She nudged her unopened box of tampons to the side so she could retrieve a lint roller from the back of the bathroom cabinet. Her rarely worn uniform was definitely a magnet for dust. 

Her hair was as tightly pulled back as it was going to get and her clothes were as neat as she could make them. She picked up her cap and ran the lint roller over the felt top briefly. The motion caused a pang of sadness to well up in her. The last time she’d worn dress blues, she’d been at her dear captain’s funeral and then fighting for her life against a bullet in her chest. This was a new uniform, but it evoked the same strong emotions. 

Castle called her name from the living room. A glance at her father’s watch around her wrist confirmed that Beckett was indeed falling behind schedule. They were supposed to meet Captain Gates at the precinct in twenty minutes. “Coming!” she shouted back. She tucked her cap under her arm and grabbed her purse off of the counter before marching out to join the rest of her family. 

Her beloved boyfriend had Kevin and Javier waiting impatiently by the front door, shoes on and ready to go. She couldn’t exactly read the expressions on her partners’ faces when they saw her attire, but Castle broke into a wide grin. “You look great,” he said. “I love a woman in uniform.”

“Oh yeah?” She smiled seductively at him. 

“Oh yeah.” He ran his hands down the sides of her arms. “Unfortunately, we don’t have time for me to show you just how much.”

“Please stop,” complained Javier. He had one arm raised to cover his eyes. “Some of us are still recovering from a terrible illness.”

“You’ll survive,” replied Castle. He backed away from Kate and reached down for Kevin’s hand. It wasn’t difficult for Beckett to catch Javier in her hold. Though the six-year-old was on his feet, fatigue still surrounded him like a cloak. She hoped that this pair of meetings wouldn’t wear him out too badly. It was sure to be emotional. Still, it had to be done sooner than later. 

As they walked down the hall in companionable silence, Beckett took a moment to regard the three males with her. These three were among the men she loved most dearly in her life. Castle looked rather delicious himself in his suit and tie. The boys had been dressed in slacks and dress shirts, though they came off as more casual thanks to the tiny leather sandals each sported under the hem of their pants. Beckett made a note to thank Martha for making sure that the shrunken pair had more than one dressy outfit. While the clothes they’d worn to Bellefonte’s viewing had been adorable, none of them were eager for the reminder of how well that outing had gone. 

“I feel like I’m going to my own funeral,” said Kevin darkly. He obediently pushed the button for the parking garage when Castle asked him to. 

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” said the writer. He was trying to send a text message one-handed, unwilling to let go of his charge even in the confined elevator. 

“My mom has a tendency to…” 

“Become hysterical,” finished Javier. 

“Over-worry,” corrected Kevin, shooting his partner an offended look. 

Javier would know the Ryans better than Beckett, who’d only met Kevin’s parents twice before, and one of those times had been when the homicide detective had been a nervous rookie less than a week into his new assignment at the Twelfth. Kevin seemed to know Javier’s immediate family very well, and often regaled Beckett with tales of their antics at some Esposito holiday or reunion, while Javier sent deadly glares at the back of his partner’s head. It was rare that the reverse was true. Beckett had never given it much thought until now. 

On the other hand, she’d met Mrs. Esposito on many occasions. The older woman was warm and welcoming. It was easy to see where Javier’s gooey insides came from, even though he tried so hard to hide it under a crusty exterior. Javier’s older sisters were almost as well known to her. She found them to be charismatic and engaging, with no shortage of embarrassing stories from their little brother’s youth. 

It was quiet in the Mercedes as Castle navigated the busy streets to the precinct. The soft background noise of the radio helped Beckett’s nerves a bit. This should be much easier to handle than speaking to the loved ones of a murder victim, or confronting Captain Montgomery’s widow after he died protecting Beckett. After all, Kevin and Javier were still alive. But hearing Javier’s assessment of Kevin’s mother’s emotional state ramped her nerves all of the way back up. Beckett was extremely grateful that Captain Gates would be in charge of doing most of the talking. 

At the precinct, Beckett switched over to ride with Captain Gates and one of the NYPD’s legal representatives. Beckett had been taken aback to learn that the stoic lawyer had been hand-picked by Captain Gates thanks to his prior knowledge about the existence of witches. It came out that this wasn't the first time the NYPD had encountered the magic users. The detective hated not knowing everything about the world around her, so she was miffed at feeling like a huge secret had been kept from her for years. 

There was nothing she could do about it now, however. Beckett shrugged off her reaction and focused instead on imagining how the upcoming meetings might go. She kept an eye on Castle’s car in her passenger side mirror. Beckett had no idea how Gates could seem so calm when Beckett felt like she was about to explode from excess pent up energy. Her early morning nausea threatened to make a comeback. 

Captain Gates expertly parked next to the curb in front of the Ryans’ homely house in one of the many small suburbs surrounding the urban part of New York City. The plan was for Captain Gates, Detective Beckett, and the NYPD lawyer to speak with the family initially, so they could prepare them for how much Kevin had changed since they last saw him. If things weren’t too far out of hand, then Beckett would text Castle to bring the boys up to the home. She hoped that this would save Kevin and Javier as much strife as possible. 

Beckett’s keen eyes noticed the flutter of curtains in the front window as the uniformed officers and well-dressed lawyer approached the front door. A moment later, the door opened to reveal an older couple. It was easy for Beckett to see the resemblance they had to her partner, and the strong influence of their Irish heritage. What didn’t bode well was the way Mrs. Ryan had her hand over her mouth and was shaking her head disbelievingly as she stared at Beckett and Gates. When they got closer, Maggie Ryan’s aghast chanting of the word _no_ was clearly audible to them all. Peter Ryan wrapped his arm tightly around his wife’s shoulders. It was never good news when your son's supervisors showed up dressed in their full uniforms. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Ryan,” said Captain Gates. “My name is Victoria Gates. I am the captain of the NYPD Twelfth Precinct.”

“What happened?” asked Mrs. Ryan tearfully. She focused on Beckett, whom she at least recognized. 

“May we come in?” asked Captain Gates. 

Mr. Ryan stepped back into his house and pulled his wife with him. He motioned for their visitors to enter. Gates confidently strode into the cozy home and headed for the front room where a slightly dated living room set stood proudly. Beckett dipped her head in greeting to the older couple as she followed Gates. The lawyer did the same.

“Can… Can I get anyone refreshments?” Mrs. Ryan was practically shivering.

Beckett couldn’t stand to see the effect the police officers were having on the Ryans. Flashes of memory from when she’d learned about her mother’s alleged mugging tore at her heartstrings. She remembered sitting nervously on her own faded loveseat in her parents’ home and _knowing_ what the uniformed man across from her was going to say. Except this time, the frightened family was imagining the worst for naught. 

“Mrs. Ryan,” Beckett said, reaching out to take one of the older woman’s hands in hers. “Kevin isn’t dead.”

The change in atmosphere in the room was noticeable as the couple let out shaky breaths in unison. Mrs. Ryan followed hers with a choked sob before visibly composing herself. “Thank god,” she whispered. 

Captain Gates resumed control of the meeting. “There was an incident that has adversely affected Detective Ryan,” she said. “As he was incapacitated in the line of duty and I am the head of his precinct, we have come to formally make you aware of the situation.”

“Incapacitated? What does that mean?” asked Mr. Ryan. He and his wife finally sat down, much to the relief of Beckett and her fraying nerves. The homicide detective also took a seat, perched on the edge of a coordinated side chair. She understood that it was necessary from a legal standpoint for Gates to censor what she said. From Beckett’s own experience being in the Ryans’ place, she knew they just wanted a straight answer, and wanted it now.

“You’ve met Detective Kate Beckett,” said Gates, buying time before she responded. “She is Detective Ryan’s supervising officer. This is Mr. Bart Hartsford, who acts as legal counsel to the NYPD.”

“Detective,” said Mrs. Ryan earnestly. “What happened to my son?” Regretfully, Beckett could only direct her attention back to Gates. 

“During the course of a routine interview with a homicide victim’s mother-in-law, Detectives Ryan and Esposito were offered drinks that were laced with a foreign substance,” explained Captain Gates. 

“Poison?” asked Mr. Ryan. “Javier was… incapacitated as well?”

“Not poison exactly,” said Gates. “And yes, Detective Esposito was likewise affected.”

“But there was an antidote,” said Mrs. Ryan hopefully. “Because you said he’s okay.” She looked over at Beckett again. 

“There is no cure,” said Captain Gates as gently as she could. “The consequences of the foreign agent are permanent.”

“What does that mean?” inquired Mr. Ryan. Beckett could tell he was starting to become frustrated with the run around. 

“It means that Detective Ryan is no longer capable of performing his duties as a homicide detective or as a member of the New York Police Department.”

“Where is he? Where’s Kevin?”

“Mrs. Ryan,” said Beckett, unable to stand watching the parents in front of her agonize over the impending news. She was done with legalese and political correctness. “The point of this meeting is to prepare you for the change Kevin has undergone as a result of what he and Esposito drank. He’s very different than how you last remember him.” Beckett assumed that the couple was imaging their son in a vegetative state, unable to move or communicate and likely hooked up to life support machines in an intensive care unit. She really wasn’t sure how to explain the reality of Kevin’s change, so she opted to show them. She pulled out her smart phone and opened her photo gallery. A few swipes to the left brought up a picture she’d taken in Southampton before Rayford Bellefonte had kidnapped her partners. In the photograph, four-year-old Kevin was covered in sunscreen and sand, and smiling impishly at the camera through his dark blonde bangs. The Atlantic Ocean crashed against the white beach behind him. 

“I don’t understand,” said Mrs. Ryan after she took the phone and studied the picture. “I don’t remember this photo. Peter, do you remember taking Kevin and the girls to the sea when Kevin was a pre-schooler?”

“No,” replied Mr. Ryan. “He was about to start middle school the first time we vacationed at the beach.”

“I took that picture,” said Beckett. She bravely held the couple’s gazes when they looked at her in confusion. “The woman whom Kevin and Javier interviewed practiced witchcraft, and what she gave them wasn’t poison. She cast a spell on them, which turned them into little kids.”

“Is this some kind of a joke?” demanded Mr. Ryan angrily. “There’s no such thing as witches.”

“This is not a joke,” said Captain Gates. “The NYPD, and certainly I, do not have time to pointlessly antagonize the families of our detectives. We’ve all had our eyes opened to a much wider world recently. The picture Detective Beckett showed you is real.”

“It can’t be,” said Mrs. Ryan. “People do all kinds of things with pictures these days. This must be - what is the term? Photoshopped?”

“I know this is hard to believe,” said Beckett. “It took me a long time to wrap my mind around this, and I’ve been with them since it happened. And if you won’t accept a digital image as proof, I can understand that.”

“This claims the picture was taken on July 4th,” said Mr. Ryan. “That’s two weeks ago. Why are we just now learning about this?” His growing anger was readily apparent. 

“I have been working tirelessly to find a way to undo what was done to them,” said Beckett. “Our hope has always been that once Kevin and Javier were returned to their normal selves, we could put this mess behind us and none of their loved ones would be forced to worry about what-ifs. It was just this past Monday that we learned conclusively that the spell cannot be removed.”

“When did this happen? How long has Kevin been… this?” Mr. Ryan was standing now, glaring furiously down at Beckett. He wasn’t an overly tall man - about the same height as his son - but Beckett found herself feeling the slightest bit intimidated in her seat on the edge of the chair. 

“It happened June 28th,” replied Beckett honestly. Mr. Ryan’s face turned even redder when he realized how long the NYPD had hidden Kevin’s condition from them.

“Where is he?!”

“Mr. Ryan, please sit down,” said Gates authoritatively. To Beckett’s relief, the man followed her captain’s command.

“I want to see my son,” Mr. Ryan insisted, no less furious now that he was sitting. Mrs. Ryan looked shocked and unable to really grasp what was going on anymore. 

“I can arrange that,” said Beckett. She held out her hand for her phone. 

“Now!”

“Mr. Ryan,” said Gates sternly. “I understand that you’re feeling--”

“Like hell you do! How many of your children have supposedly had a spell cast on them by a witch?”

“The NYPD is doing everything it can to support Detective Ryan and yourselves through this difficult time. Detective Ryan knows the risks inherent with his job and he still chose to serve his city faithfully. What happened is not Detective Beckett’s fault, so I will ask you to kindly refrain from raising your voice to her. You may direct your concerns to myself.” Gates stared down the upset father. 

Beckett finally managed to wrest her phone away from Kevin’s mother. She typed out a brief text message to Castle, urging him to bring the boys and warning him that the Ryans were not happy. She hoped that Kevin would somehow be able to calm his parents. 

Mr. Ryan proceeded to direct his concerns loudly to Captain Gates. Next to him, his wife started to weep as everything finally started to sink in. Beckett’s nausea returned two-fold. A headache started between her eyes and she wished that she was anywhere in the world but here. The ringing of the doorbell was barely audible over the heated discussion, but it was a very welcome sound to the detective. 

“I’ll get it,” she informed the Ryans and her captain. Before she headed for the door, she addressed the devastated parents. “Please keep in mind that while Kevin is still himself mentally, he _is_ a little kid now and he won’t react well to your anger.” That said, she escaped to the pseudo peace of the foyer. 

She opened the front door to reveal her boyfriend and partners. “Rough day?” teased Castle. 

“Don’t even get me started,” said Beckett. She squatted down in front of Kevin, who stood partially concealed behind the writer. “Hey, baby boy. Your mom and dad are rather upset about the news, but I think it mostly has to do with how long we waited before telling them. Hopefully seeing that you’re mostly okay will calm them down.”

“Is my mother crying?” Beckett’s cringe was all the answer Kevin needed. He sighed morosely and glanced over his shoulder to the parked Mercedes. Beckett feared he would try to bolt, but her younger partner mentally girded himself and stepped into the house in which he grew up. Beckett took his hand, freeing Castle to use both arms to support Javier. The six-year-old, his head resting on the writer’s shoulder, looked utterly worn out just from waiting in the car. It made the lead detective dread even more going through this all over again. 

Beckett led the way back into the living room with Kevin a step behind her. Castle trailed them, looking just as eager to meet Kevin’s parents as Beckett was to reenter the room. As soon as she rounded the corner, all eyes were on her. Kevin’s fortitude fled and he peered into the room from around Beckett’s legs.

“Kevin?” asked Mrs. Ryan tearfully. She watched the bashful four-year-old with a mixture of hope and dread. 

“Come on,” said Beckett softly. She pulled Kevin further into the room and prodded him to stand before his parents. 

The Ryans stared at the child silently. Kevin lasted about three seconds before he started to squirm uncomfortably. His tiny fingers tightened around Beckett’s. “Uh…” He took a deep breath. “Hi, Da. Ma.”

“Kevin?”

“Yes, Ma, it’s me,” he said quietly. “Surprise?”

Mrs. Ryan burst into a fresh round of tears and pressed her face against her husband’s shoulder. Mr. Ryan hugged her tightly. The emotional outburst spurned Kevin into action. He dropped Beckett’s hand so he could move toward the couch and clasp his mother’s arm with tiny hands. “Please don’t cry, Ma.” The little boy sounded shaky as well. 

His mother shrugged him off, as if he could transfer the spell to her through touch. Kevin took a step back and hugged himself, unsure of what to do. “Da?”

“My god, Kevin. What happened to you?”

“I’m still me. Just smaller.” He sniffled before trying to approach the couple again. Mr. Ryan reached out to gently push the boy back. He pulled his hand back like his son were radioactive. That didn’t stop him from staring at Kevin with a mixture of wonder and fear. 

"I'm not sick," Kevin insisted, though he kept his distance. "The spell isn't contagious. Please don't push me away."

"The… spell, whatever it is, is unnatural. Why would you let this happen?" asked Mr. Ryan. 

"I didn't." Kevin wiped at his damp cheeks. "I don't want this. I want everything to go back to normal."

"How can this ever be normal?" sobbed Mrs. Ryan. "My son is gone…"

"I'm right here," Kevin corrected. He tried to reach out to his mother again, but she leaned back out of fear. Kevin froze, still holding out his tiny hands. Beckett hardly even knew the older woman, but the look on her face as she regarded her son made the detective feel like she was being disowned herself. Kevin's tearful, "Please, Ma," nearly broke her heart.

"Just give her some space," scolded Mr. Ryan. He twisted his upper body so he could fully hug his devastated wife. Being rebuffed by both of his parents was Kevin’s snapping point. He turned from them and reached for Beckett, who didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms tightly around him. He shed his own tears into the belly of her uniform jacket. 

Captain Gates took that as their cue to leave. She stood up briskly and motioned for the lawyer to do the same. “I’m sorry for being the bearer of this bad news,” she said crisply. “We’ll leave you now. You may call me at any time.” She placed a business card on one of the side tables. 

“Where are you taking him?” asked Mr. Ryan, though he made no move to stop Beckett from guiding Kevin toward the door. 

“He’s staying with me,” said the detective. She couldn’t help the fury that bled into her own voice now. She couldn’t believe that Kevin’s own parents were treating him like an infectious disease. If he were her child, she would have latched onto him and never let go. When she stood abreast of her boyfriend, she motioned to the writer. “This is Richard Castle, and of course you already know Javier.” Neither of the Ryans responded to the introduction, unless one counted Mrs. Ryan's increased sobs at seeing Javier Esposito in the body of a child as well. Done with them and unsure if she could contain her disappointment, Beckett resumed her march to the front door. 

On the front stoop, Beckett finally lifted Kevin into her arms and rocked him fruitlessly. “I’m so sorry, baby boy,” she whispered into his ear. She followed it with a kiss to his cheek. She wiped at her own tears with the back of her hand. 

“Well, that just made me feel a lot less guilty about keeping him for myself,” Castle ground out as he stepped around her. “Maybe we should postpone our next stop until another day.” He adjusted his hold on Javier, who looked just as apprehensive about visiting his mother as Beckett felt. 

“It has to be done, even if it’s difficult,” said Captain Gates. The older woman was the last to exit the house, after the lawyer. She cleared her throat and shut the door behind her with a bit more force than necessary. “I almost can’t wait for them to call me.” She gave the innocent door a scathing look before crossing the stoop and starting down the walk.

_to be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to TXMedic for beta-reading!


	11. 74: July 17 - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the Espositos learn about Javier's fate...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Happy Birthday, Detective Rysposito!**
> 
>  
> 
> For any of you who speak Spanish, please let me know if I've misused any words or expressions.

### Chapter Seventy-Four

Castle tapped along with the beat in his head, the drumming of his fingers on the steering wheel the only sound in the silent Mercedes. His attention vacillated between the small, well-kept apartment building in an old New York neighborhood and his rearview mirror. The writer didn’t think that Javier was sleeping again, but the boy’s eyes were closed. It was the child’s slightly accelerated breathing that made Castle think Javier was nervously awaiting the confrontation with his mother. 

In the full car seat on the passenger side, Kevin hugged himself miserably. He sniffled occasionally and wiped at his eyes and nose with the back of his hand. Castle’s earlier attempts to comfort the Irish boy had been angrily rebuffed, so the older man grudgingly let Kevin work through his hurt on his own. He had a stash of Wet Wipes in the console between the front seats, which he’d make use of before heading upstairs.

It was taking most of Castle's minimal self-control to hide the full extent of his anger at Kevin's parents. Before they'd left that morning, he'd tried to imagine himself in their shoes, with someone coming to inform him that Alexis had been changed into a four-year-old. The only feelings he'd been able to conjure were ones of aching sympathy and a desire to cuddle his daughter and never, ever let go again. It was putting it mildly to say he'd been quite unprepared for the Ryan's reaction. That they'd caused his friend - his son - so much pain… Well, it about made his blood boil. 

His phone suddenly chimed with a text message, a full ten minutes sooner than he’d expected. He struggled to squelch his anger, knowing it wasn't right to start Javier's visit on a sour note. Based on the boys’ comments, Castle expected Carlotta Esposito to take the news a little better than the Ryans. Still, this quick turnaround made him nervous. Beckett’s short note to bring the boys gave the writer no clue about what to anticipate. 

Castle slipped out of the car and pulled open the rear door. Javier’s movements were sluggish, but he still managed to undo his seatbelt before Castle could help him. “Ready, buddy?” It looked like the boy's rest, though plagued by nerves, had helped him a little bit. 

“I just want to get this over with,” Javier replied. Castle stepped aside so Javier could climb out of the sedan. 

“Do me a favor and try to look a little less like a zombie, lest your mother question my ability to care for you.”

“If she even cares,” grumbled Kevin. Javier watched his partner struggle with the buckle on his car seat for a moment before sighing softly. Castle nudged him out of the way of the door swing before taking his hand and guiding him to Kevin’s side of the car. Brandishing a Wet Wipe, Castle wiped down Kevin’s lower arms and hands prior to lifting him out of the vehicle. From the same pocket, the writer produced a travel-size packet of Kleenex and pressed it into the four-year-old’s hands.

The elevator ride to the third floor passed in silence. Castle felt like he was pulling the cursed detectives down the short hallway to Ms. Esposito’s unit, though in reality only Kevin was really dragging his feet. Castle should have taken comfort in how calm Javier seemed, but the meeting with the Ryans had gone so much worse than expected and Castle refused to get his hopes up again. Besides that, the Hispanic detective could be frustratingly savvy at hiding his feelings. 

Before they reached the apartment, the door swung open to reveal an attractive Hispanic woman in her late thirties to early forties. She gasped when she saw them, before breaking into rapid Spanish as she called back into the apartment. Castle knew a smattering of words in the foreign language, but that did him no good in translating her emotional outburst. 

“Ally,” said Javier, his brow furrowed in concern. He leaned in closer to Castle’s side, squeezing the older man’s fingers. 

“ _Díos_ , it’s true!” The woman strode forward and grabbed Javier by the shoulders, ripping him away from Castle. “¿Hermanito, qué pasó?”

“Um, excuse me,” said Castle. He tried to reach around her to reclaim Javier, but was thwarted when the woman vaulted to her feet and jabbed a menacingly manicured finger in his face. 

“Who are you and what did you do to Javier?” she demanded. Her dark brown eyes flashed with fury and even though the top of her head barely reached his shoulder, Castle found himself fighting the urge to take a step back. 

“Alejandra,” Javier pleaded, tugging on the hem of her jacket. 

“Hush, _chiquito_ , while I take this bad man to task.” The whole time, the woman… er, _Alejandra_ ’s furious glare never left Castle’s face. Javier’s face screwed up in dislike of the endearment and he redoubled his efforts to save Castle from this madwoman. Unfortunately, she would not be deterred. “What kind of sick monster are you? You can’t just turn people in children and then hide it for weeks. You’re lucky that _mi marido_ is out of town right now or I would have him break your knee caps.”

“Alejandra!” Javier’s cry fell on deaf ears as his… what? advanced on the writer. Castle finally gave into his flight instinct and scrambled backwards, pulling Kevin with him. Somehow he managed to maintain his balance as he hefted the four-year-old into the air so he could make a faster getaway. It tore at him to abandon Javier to his fate at the hands of this she-demon, but he consoled himself with the fact that she seemed rather protective of the once-detective. 

“Oh!” The rage rushed out of her face as her gaze landed on the blond boy. “ _Mi cielito_.” She reached out to take Kevin and that was the last straw. Castle turned to place his body between hers and his boy’s. He threw out an arm to hold her at bay. 

“Just, hold on a minute,” he snapped. “Who are _you_?”

“What do you mean, _who am I_?” The venom was back in her voice. “I am Alejandra Esposito Garcia, and you would be wise to give Kevin to me.”

“My sister,” Javier elaborated. He resumed pulling on the hem of the woman’s shirt. “Alejandra, listen to me. This is Rick Castle. He writes the Nikki Heat books. He’s not the bad man who did this.”

“You are Rick Castle?” She raised an eyebrow skeptically. “The author of the books about Detective Ochoa? You don’t look like an author to me.” She waved her hand dismissively. 

Castle needed a minute to get his tongue and his brain back in sync. “Uh, they’re not exactly about Ochoa, but yes, I’m that Rick Castle.”

“Why don’t you give Detective Ochoa a bigger part, huh? In the first book he had lots of scenes, and then it’s like he stopped existing.”

“Well, you see, the book is about Detective Heat and…”

“Heat, Smeat,” Alejandra interrupted. “I want to read more about my little brother.”

“Speaking of your little brother…” Castle snapped his fingers at Javier and motioned for the boy to come to him. 

“Do not snap your fingers at him,” Alejandra said angrily. She intercepted Javier and knelt down so she could address him at eye level. “Oh, you are so small, _hermanito_.”

“I _know_ ,” Javier replied impatiently. “Where is Mama?”

“She is inside with Katie and Captain Gates.” Castle blinked a few times at the familiarity in Alejandra’s referral to his girlfriend. 

“Beckett doesn’t like to be called that,” Javier reminded his sister. 

Alejandra rolled her eyes. “She can complain to me about what I call her when you are big again, Javier.” Alejandra rose to her full height and nudged Javier toward the still open door to his mother’s home. Beckett now stood there, wondering what had happened to her partners and boyfriend. She flattened herself against the door jamb when Alejandra brushed by her rudely. 

“She is just a little bit terrifying,” Castle whispered to Kate, stopping next to the detective as Alejandra and Javier continued into the apartment. 

“She has a big personality, and family is very important to her,” said Kate. She accepted Kevin into her arms when the four-year-old reached for her. “Get ready for the waterworks.”

“Not again,” groaned Castle. 

“It’s different this time,” Kate assured him. Castle pulled the door closed and followed his girlfriend to the quaint living room whence he could clearly hear heartfelt sobbing. Unlike Mrs. Ryan, who had turned her back on her cursed son, Carlotta had her arms wrapped tightly around Javier. The six-year-old hugged her back, his own shoulders shaking as he hid his face in her shoulder. The Esposito matriarch rocked slowly back and forth as her daughter stood protectively next to the couch, scowling angrily at their guests. 

Captain Gates and the NYPD lawyer shifted uncomfortably before rising almost in sync. “Mrs. Esposito,” said Gates softly. The older woman lifted her tear-stained face to acknowledge the captain. “We’ll take our leave now. Do not hesitate to call with any questions. We take good care of our own at the NYPD. Detect-- Javier will be well provided for.”

“If this is what you call ‘good care’, I would hate to see your neglect,” said Alejandra with a huff. 

“Don’t be rude,” chided Mrs. Esposito. “Go, call Isabella.” She watched her daughter stomp dramatically out of the room before addressing Gates again. “Thank you for your kind words of support, Captain.”

“Of course.” Gates dipped her head in farewell. “Detective Beckett, I trust you can find a ride back to the precinct?” Kate nodded in confirmation. A moment later, Gates and the lawyer were gone. 

Mrs. Esposito pressed her lips against the crown of Javier’s head and let her eyes slide shut. It didn’t stop more tears from streaming down her cheeks. It took a minute for her to remember that she still had a captive audience. Reluctantly, she uncurled one arm from around her son to wipe at her reddened cheeks. “You said that Javier was not the only one changed by the magic spell. Where is Kevin?”

“He’s right here,” said Kate. She carried her younger partner over to the couch and gently pried him off of her front so she could set him on the faded couch next to Carlotta. Mrs. Esposito cupped Kevin’s face and ran her thumb under his red-rimmed eye. 

“You are a precious little boy,” Mrs. Esposito said fondly. “I recall now that you are a couple of years younger than Javier.”

“You’re handling this much better than my parents did,” Kevin informed her with a sniffle. Mrs. Esposito glanced over his head to Kate for an explanation. 

“The Ryans didn’t know how to react,” Kate said diplomatically. She threaded her fingers through Kevin’s fine hair. 

Mrs. Esposito harrumphed. “What is there to be confused about? When your child hurts, you hug him.” She did just that, drawing Kevin in to mirror Javier’s position on her right side. Kevin burst into a fresh batch of tears and wrapped his little arms tightly around her neck. “Shhh,” soothed the older woman. “I will hold you until your parents figure themselves out.” She kissed Kevin’s temple. 

Kate wiped at her own solitary tear and gave Javier’s mother a watery smile. “Thank you.”

“Mama,” said Alejandra as she strode back into the room. “Isabella is on her way over. She is in disbelief.”

“Aren’t we all? Make yourself useful, _mija_. Our guests have had a long day and are probably hungry.” 

“Oh no,” said Kate. “We’ve brought you terrible news today. The last thing we expect is for you to cook for us.”

“Nonsense. Food is good for the soul.”

Alejandra sighed irritably. “I will make _pozole_. Then I will tell Mr. Castle about how to give Detective Ochoa a bigger part in his books.” Castle cringed and hoped that the dish took a long time to prepare. He noticed then that Javier had fallen asleep against his mother’s side, having succumbed to his emotions and lingering fatigue. It was the perfect excuse to leave. 

“Mrs. Esposito, we should get out of your hair,” he said. “The boys are tired and Javier hasn’t been feeling well lately.”

Carlotta realized then that her son had fallen asleep. She stroked his dark hair. “Please, I am not ready to be parted with him yet.”

“And we’re in no hurry,” Kate rushed to inform her. The detective shot Castle a dark look. The writer jerked his head toward the door to the kitchen and made his own face. Kate just shook her head and turned back to Mrs. Esposito. “You just tell us when you’re ready for us to leave.”

“Thank you.” She shifted, nudging Kevin back into his partner’s embrace. "He will sleep better on a bed." Mrs. Esposito slid out from under Javier, letting him down gently into her abandoned seat. “It has been a long time since he was so small.”

“I’ll carry him,” Castle offered, hoping to make amends. He scooped up the cursed detective and cradled him carefully. 

“This way. I’ll show you where to put him.” Castle followed her to the back of the apartment where the solitary bedroom was located. The bed was covered with throw pillows, but it had nothing on the walls, where no space had been left unfilled by a framed photograph. There were hundreds of them, each graced with smiling faces. The writer would have loved to stand there and take in each of the pictures, especially when he finally found a familiar face among the crowd. The picture had to be only about a year old and featured Javier and Lanie beaming at the camera, lit from behind by the setting sun. 

“You can lay him here,” said Carlotta, motioning to where she’d placed a pillow in the middle of the bed. Castle gently lowered his burden to the frilly comforter. Javier shifted into a comfortable position without waking and buried his nose in the plush pillow. It probably smelled like his mother, and in turn like love and family. Mrs. Esposito covered him with a knitted throw, making sure it was tucked snugly around her son. 

“I love this collage,” Castle told her when she was finished. He motioned to the wall. 

Mrs. Esposito smiled warmly. “I will introduce to you my family.” Castle knew there was no chance of remembering all of the names the older woman spewed out effortlessly. Still, he paid rapt attention as she identified cousin after niece after nephew after grandchild. Castle was surprised to see Kevin in a few of the photographs. “I dearly love Lanie,” said Mrs. Esposito, “but she is not the one who makes Javier’s eyes sparkle.” She pressed her fingers tenderly against the frame of the picture that had first caught Castle’s attention. 

A commotion from the front of the apartment drew their attention. Kate appeared a moment later, barely keeping up with a frantic four-year-old. Kevin dropped her hand and hurried to Castle’s side, his arms already lifted expectantly. Castle effortlessly picked him up. 

“Isabella is here,” explained Kate. “She brought--”

“ _Abuelita_! _Abuelita_!” Running feet thundered toward the bedroom. 

“ _Díos_ ,” said Mrs. Esposito. She hurried from the room to intercept her grandbabies. “Mr. Castle, you can leave them in here and close the door.”

Castle sought out Kevin’s distracted gaze. “You want to take a nap, too, kiddo?” Kevin nodded emphatically.

xXx

Javier was drawn out of his nap by someone stroking his hair. He blinked a couple of times and finally remembered that he was at his mother’s apartment. He didn’t remember coming into her bedroom, so he must have fallen asleep in the living room and been moved to the back room later. He hated falling asleep after crying. It always left him with a headache.

“Hi, Javi,” said his companion softly. She leaned down to kiss his cheek. Her hand moved from his head to rub small circles in his back. He’d watched her do the same for his niece and nephews when the child was unwell, many times before. 

“Izzy.”

“Mama sent me to wake you up. Dinner is ready.”

“I’m not hungry.” If not for the fact that Isabella had mothered him at thirty-six, too, he would have protested her affection. Right now he was just very grateful that his family hadn’t rejected him like Kevin’s had. Not that he’d truly worried that they would. 

“You need to eat,” Isabella said firmly. “Mr. Castle told us that you’ve been ill. It’s important that you regain your strength.”

Javier sat up and looked worriedly at his sister. “Did he say why?”

“A bug,” she replied. “Andres caught one himself a few weeks ago, so I know there’s something going around.”

“Where is Castle?”

“He is out in the living room,” said Isabella. “After Herman came to pick up the kids, your partner ventured out to join us, as well.” She grinned at her brother. “I am not surprised that he is an adorable child. He was quite cute as an adult.”

“Stop eying my partner or I’ll tell Herman on you.”

“He doesn’t mind if I look as long as I don’t touch,” she teased. Her wide smile faded as she regarded Javier. “Detective Beckett and Mr. Castle have told us how they wish to adopt you and Kevin, since this spell cannot be broken. Is that what you want?”

“I want to be big again,” said Javier. “But if I can’t be, then I guess it’s the best solution. Mama can’t afford to support me again.”

“You know that would not matter to her in the least,” said Isabella. “She would gladly have you home again. And if it does not work out, then you can come to live with me.”

“No!” Javier instantly regretted his quick response when Isabella frowned, her feelings hurt. “Only because it would be too strange to be smaller than Andres and Paulo. Besides, you have enough to deal with. Mama tells me all the time what a handful Anna is.”

“Javier, you are no burden to me.”

“I can’t leave Kevin alone with this,” said Javier. “His mother couldn’t even stand to look at him. His father treated him like a leper.”

“That’s horrible,” said Isabella. Her lips pursed in anger and it took a few seconds before she could sigh and let it go. “You are a good friend, Javier. I know you will take good care of Kevin.”

“I’ll try. Even though he always wants to talk about feelings.”

Isabella laughed. “Oh, no. Not feelings.”

Javier flushed. “Shut up.”

“I'll talk Alejandra out of her anger, as long as you want to stay with Mr. Castle. It will be good for you to have a new start, Javier. But you will _always_ be my little brother and have a place in my home.”

“Thanks,” he said bashfully. 

“Come on. If you really want to take care of your adorable partner, you can start by distracting Mama. She has been cuddling Kevin while waiting for you to wake up.”

“I doubt he minds,” said Javier. He scooted toward the edge of the bed. He slid off the side and landed on his feet, only to be assaulted by a wave of dizziness. “Whoa.”

“See, you should listen to your wise older sister,” said Isabella. “You need to eat as well as sleep if you want to get better.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Javier followed his sister out of the bedroom to join the rest of his family and his friends. He could see his mother, middle sister, Beckett, and Kevin already seated at the dining room table. His partner had forgone the simple booster that was usually reserved for his youngest niece, Anna, in favor of kneeling on his chair. Beckett and Alejandra were seated on either side of him, engaged in a spirited debate about his well-being, most likely. His mama was sitting across from Alejandra, next to the seat that he was sure had been saved for him. 

Before Javier and Isabella could finish the short walk to the dining room, they were intercepted by Castle. Javier didn't have a chance to protest before the writer had him airborne and then held securely against his broad chest. Javier tightened his arms around Castle's neck to make sure that the older man didn't drop him, of course. "Feeling better?" Castle asked as he rubbed his hand in a small circle over Javier's upper back. 

"I'm actually hungry," he said. He didn't feel as unbearably lethargic as he had since the failed counter spell, either. The enticing scent of one of his childhood staples was probably helping his appetite return. 

"That's good news," said the writer. Javier expected Castle to start heading in the direction of the expanded table, but he loitered in the shadow of the hall. Isabella gave the writer a strange look. Castle shifted his weight between his feet uncomfortably and finally asked, "Why didn't you tell me that Alejandra was so scary?" 

Isabella let out a mirthful laugh and shook her head. Javier leaned back slightly so he could look the writer directly in the face. "I don't think she's scary," he said with a straight face. A memory from long ago suddenly popped into his mind and Javier grinned impishly. "Except for that one time…"

"What happened?" asked Castle after he checked to make sure that the middle Esposito sibling was still sufficiently distracted. 

"Javier, don't tell tales about our sister," chidded Isabella lightly. She smiled at her brother's concerned guardian. "She's mellowed out significantly since marrying Fernando, I promise." She turned as if to depart, but paused and looked back at Castle. "Though, she does tend to revert back to her old ways when she thinks our baby brother is not being treated well."

"I treat you very well, don't I, buddy?"

Javier frowned at him. "Remember all of those times you purposefully humiliated me in public just because I'm in a stupid little kid's body?"

Castle nearly choked on his surprise. "I did no such thing," he stammered in denial. He shifted a half step back from Isabella's suddenly unimpressed expression. 

"What about at the Mall of Manhattan, with the underwear?"

"That was one time, and if you ask Kate, I'm sure she'll tell you that I embarrassed myself more than you."

"I want to hear this story," Isabella stated, looking pointedly at Castle. 

"It's really not as bad as Javier would like you to believe. Besides, it looks like everyone is wondering why we're hiding here in the hall. We should go eat the delicious soup that your sister made."

Isabella gave him one last appraising look before saying, "You should know, Mr. Castle, that we Espositos stick together. Javier knows how to reach me if he ever needs anything. He also has Alejandra on speed dial." She winked and then made her way to the dining room, not bothering to conceal her chuckles.

"Why do I feel like I've stumbled into some hazing ritual and don't even know it?" Castle asked Javier.

"Don't worry, I think Isabella likes you. And Mama loves everyone. The only person you really need to worry about is Ally."

"Right. The terrifying one." Javier giggled into Castle's shoulder as the writer finally followed Isabella's steps. Javier was confident that he could handle whatever harebrained schemes Castle came up with, but it was a relief to know that he could still count on his older sisters to have his back if the writer ever got too out of hand. 

_to be continued..._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know how you like the story. I write for fun but I always want to improve, so constructive criticism is always welcome. All mistakes are my own.


End file.
